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Grace and Cassy. Page 23. 







LITTLE PRUDY SERIES 


LITTLE PRUDY’S 

COUSIN GRACE 


SOPHIE MAY 


BOSTON 

LEE AND SHEPARD 

: ,, /SQ 0 !? 


97-7 

,C557 

\-0'A- 


Z 


Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by 
LEE & SHEPARD, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 

Copyright, 1892, by Kebecca S. Clarke. 


Little Trudy's Cousin Grace. 



DEDICATION. 

— » i» l» — 

FOR 

MARY WHEELER and NANNA SORENSON, 

&ND FOR TWO YOUNG GIRLS ANYWHERE, WHO CHOOSE EACH 
OTHER FOR “ DEAR AND ONLY FRIENDS,” 

SIjis JSlorn 

OF TUB 

«BVF.»V**TVHG friendship" of grace and cassy 


IS ESPECIALLY written 










* 




r 


•• 





































• • 




CONTENTS. 


CHAP 

I. The Cup and Saucer, 

• 

• 

• 


PA09 

5 

IT. The Ruby Seal, 

€• 

o 

• 

# 

16 

III. The Prize, 

r 

• 

• 

• 

32 

IV. A Snake in the Grass, . 

• 

• 

• 

• 

54 

V. Fortunes, 

• 

• 

* 


70 

VI. Misfortunes, . 

• 

• 

• 


85 

VII. The Regard-Ring, . 

• 

• 

• 


105 

VIII. Prudy Parian, . 

• 

e 

• 


125 

IX. Barbara's Wedding, 

• 

• 


# 

141 

X. Who gets the Prize? 


• 

• 

• 

158 

XI. The Children’s Fair, 

t 

* 

• 

• 

m 


m 






















. 







































COUSIN GRACE. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE CUP AND SAUCER. 

Grace Clifford and Katharine Hallock 
were such dear friends, and spent so much 
time together, that you could not think of 
one without thinking of the other; and 
people linked their names together, and 
spoke of "(Trace and Cassy” just as one 
speaks of a " cup and saucer, ’* or a " hook 
-and eye.” 

Yet they were not in the least alike. 
There was something very eager and vivid 
about Grace, with her bright blue eyes, 


6 


COUSIN GRACE. 


auburn curls, and brilliant color. She had 
an ecstatic way of laughing, and a wild, 
agonized way of weeping. She clapped her 
hands for joy, or wrung them for grief. 
Her tears fell in showers, but afterward the 
sun was sure to shine out clearly. 

Cassy, on the other hand, was a gentle, 
brown-eyed little maiden, with long lashes 
sweeping her cheeks, and brown hair lying 
quietly behind her ears. She never stormed 
nor raved. 

It was a very rare thing for the girls 
to disagree. They had such a dear love 
for each other that they decided never to 
marry, but to live together in a charming 
cottage adorned with woodbine, and keep 
chickens, pigeons, and a cat. 

At the beginning of our story they were 
nearly twelve years old, and closer friends 
than ever. They had exchanged rings as 


THE CUP AND SAUCER. 


7 


pledges of everlasting fidelity. The ring 
which Cassy gave Grace was set with gems, 
— ruby, emerald, garnet, amethyst, ruby, 
and diamond, — the initials spelling the 
word "Regard.” This regard-ring had once 
belonged to Mrs. Hallock ; but after being 
broken and mended it was too small for 
her, and she had given it to Cassy. 

In exchange, Grace put on her friend’s 
third finger a pretty emerald, which had 
been a good-by present from Mr. Augustus 
Allen. 

One day in March these two Hoosicr girls 
were walking hand in hand down Vine Street, 
where there was always a fine shade in the 
summer. Now the trees were leafless, and 
the bright sun shadowed forth little flick- 
ering pictures of their branches on the girls 
shawls and hats. 

" Why, Cassy Hallock,” said Grace, shad* 


8 


COUSIN GRACE. 


ing her face with one hand, " this sun is 
bright enough to blind an eagle.” 

" But it doesn’t blind me,” laughed Cassy. 
"lean almost look at it without winking.” 

" Then you must be a half-eagle, Cassy. 
Why, you don’t mind the weather, or any 
of the bothers ! You never fly out of 
patience, O, Cassy Hallock, I think you’re 
splendid ! ” 

As this was not the first time Cassy had 
been eulogized as " splendid,” she was by 
no means asto'^ed, but continued to move 
quietly along, with her usual composure. 
Grace Clifford seemed a little nervous. 
Every now and then she would drop her 
friend’s hand, and gather a few blades of 
grass, or pick up a pebble, then seize 
Cassy’s hand again, and walk on. Cassy 
watched her companion with some curiosity. 
’'Now', Gracie Clifford,” said she at last 


THE CUP AND SAUCER. 


9 


* you’re keeping something to yourself; 1 
just know you are.” 

"What if I am?” said Grace, tossing an 
orange into the air and catching it as it fell ; 
"I needn’t tell you every single thing, 
Cassy * ” 

" Yes, you must, Gracie Clifford,” was the 
firm reply; "I’m your dearest friend, and 
am I not going off next week visiting?” 

" Well, I’ve nothing to tell, any way, but 
just thoughts,” said Grace, pocketing her 
orange, and taking Cassy’s hand again, while 
they each hopped on one foot like happy 
little robins. "I’ve a great many thoughts 
whizzing in my mind. aL the time, Gassy. 
I’ve been thinking lately about — I mean 
I’ve been wishing, for ages and ages, that 
I’d been born a boy ; but it’s sill}', and so I 
never say it.” 

" Why, Gracie Clifford, I’ve heard you say 


COUSIN GRACE. 


\0 

t five hundred times ! I’d as soon oe a girl, 
because I am, and there’s the end of it.” 

" But to grow up and be a woman ! ’ said 
Grace, with a shudder. "Do you ever 
think of the wrinkles, and the cross kitchen 
girls, and the children that have to cut their 
teeth? And you can’t sleep nights; and 
then they won’t let you vote ! ” 

"I don’t want to vote, Gracie ; what would 
l vote for?” 

"O, child ! For union and liberty, and all 
the good things. Don’t you go to encoura- 
ging slavery, Cassy ! ” 

"No,” laughed Cassy, "I won’t.” 

"And don’t let such swearing people as 
Mr. Blake go to Congress. But there, you 
can't help it, Cassy ; you nevcr’ll vote, neither 
will I. And there’s Horace, — what do you 
suppose that boy cares about politics? But 
he’ll vote fast enough.” 


THE CUP AND SAUCER. 


U 


" O, yes,” chimed in Cassy, beginning tn 
grow indignant, " only because he’s a boy ! ” 
’'And he’ll come to me, Horace will, just 
as likely as not, Cassy, and I’ll Lave to tell 
him which way to vote.” 

The girls looked rather scornful as the} 
pictured to themselves an imaginary Horace, 
tall and twenty-one, anxiously inquiring of 
his sister what ticket he should throw into 
the ballot-box. 

"Now, you see,” said Grace, "it’s very 
absurd to make a fuss that way over boys. 
They feel it. It sets them up on a throne.” 

" O, yes, I reckon it does, Gracie. Isn’t 
it right funny now to look at boys, and see 
the airs they put on?” 

"It is so,” said Grace, sweeping back her 
curls with a gesture of disdain. "There’s 
their secret societies, Cassy.” * 

" Yes ? Grade, and I don’t approve of any 


12 


COUSIN GRACE. 


such goings on. johnny looks so wise and 
important ! How I wish I knew what it’s all 
about ! ” 

" Why, Cassy, I wouldn’t know if I <;ould. 
I’d scorn to care.” 

"So would I scorn to care,” replied Cassy, 
quickly. " O, of course ! It’s of no account, 
you might know.” 

"What vexes me, Cassy, is the way tftey 
ook down on us girls, and boast that they 
can keep secrets and we can’t, when it’s no 
such a thing, Cassy Hallock, as you and I 
very well know — we that have kept secrets 
for years and years, and never, never told, 
and never will to our dying days ! ” 

Cassy nodded her head emphatically, im- 
plying that words could not do justice to 
the subject. 

" Cassy, dear, you asked me, a little while 
ago, what I was thinking about; and now 


THE CUP AND SAUCER. 


13 


I’ll tell you. I’ve been wondering if we 
mightn’t get up a secret society our own 
selves ! ” 

Cassy stopped short, laughed, and said, 
" Capital ! ” forgetting that not five minutes 
before she had expressed contempt for such 
"goings on.” "How many girls will we 
have, Gracie?” 

" Why, our graduating class : that’s seven. 
We don’t go much with the other girls, you 
know. I’m so glad you like the idea, Cassy ! 
and, now you do , I’m going to have it. 
I've just made op my mind ! ” 

" But oupprao the others don’t approve ? ” 

" O, pshaw, Cassy ! that’s of no sort of 
Jooseqncnce ! What you and I think they'll 
Chink — all but Isa Harrington, and we’ll 
'won manage her.” 

" Well,” replied Cassy, drawing a long 
breath, " don’t let’s walk quite so fast, 


14 


COUSIN GRACE 


Grade ; we’ll be at the school-house before 
we know it, and you and I must have 
everything arranged between us. What 
name, Grade?” 

"What think of calling ourselves Prim 
cesses of the — the — some kind of a seal ? 
The seal must be golden, or diamond, or 
something else that’s precious.” 

" The Ruby Seal,” suggested Cassy. 

" O, that’s it, dear ! Our lips are the 
ruby seal, Cassy, and never, never will they 
open to utter the secrets of our order. 
We’ll promise to love, honor, and protect 
one another as long as we all shall live. 
Our motto will be, ' Vera ad finern I 
suppose you don’t know wha* that means, 
Cassy } but it’s ' true to the end ,’ Robin 
says.” 

" I’ve only one thing to say,” interrupted 
Cassy ; " this mustn’t make any difference 


THE CUP AND SAUCER. J5 

between you and me, Gracie ; we’ll be good 
friends enough with the others ; but — ” 
"Yes, Cassy, good friends enough ; but 
it’s you and I that are the dear friends. 
We’ll be ' vera ’ — that’s true — to the others, 
but never the least speck intimate. But 
hush ! Here we are at the school-house. 
Don’t you breathe a word, you know, Cassy ! 
We’ll take our seats just as sober as if 
nothing had happened ! ” 


COUSIN GRACE. 


US 


CHAPTER II. 

THE RUBY SEAL. 

The graduating class of the Girls’ Gram- 
mar School comprised seven young misses, 
of whom Grace Clifford was the youngest, 
though by no means the most timid and 
retiring. They all met on Saturday afternoon 
at Mrs. Hallock’s to talk over the new 
project. 

The vote was unanimous in favor of the 
Ruby Seal. Isabel Harrington opposed it 
for a while, it is true ; but this may possi- 
bly have been because she was not the very 
first one consulted. 

"Now,” said Grace, when she saw that, 


THE RUBY SEAL. 


17 


fts usual, Cassy expected her to manage 
affairs, "here I sit with pencil and paper; 
and now we’ll pass resolutions, if you please. 
I’m secretary.” 

"First place,” said Isabel Harrington, 
with a toss of the head, "I’d like to ask 
what’s the good of a society, any way?” 

"What’s the good?” repeated Grace; 
" ahem ! it’s to — to — make us better, of 
course.” 

" Then mightn’t we pass one resolution to 
read the Bible ? ” asked gentle Mahla Linck, 
the lame girl, whom everybody loved. 

" Yes, we will, we will,” cried every voice. 

"It’s a vote,” said Grace, writing down: 
"We hereby solemnly pledge ourselves to 
read two chapters in the Bible daily.” 

"And say our prayers,” suggested Mahla 
again. 

" O, that’s all understood,” replied Grace. 


18 


COUSIN GRACE. 


* I’d be ashamed to put that down. It looks 
like we could ever forget our prayers ! ” 

"Now/’ said Judith Pitcher, "I move we 
forbid the use of all unladylike words.” 

This vote was passed. 

The next was against falsehoods of every 
hue, from little white lies up to the big black 
ones. 

"We mustn’t talk about ' oceans of tears,' 
and ' biting our tongues out,’ I suppose,” 
said Isabel, demurely, but with a sly glance 
at the secretary. 

"That means me,” said Grace, blushing. 
"And now,” continued she, pausing and 
looking at Cassy, who would not speak for 
her, — "now let’s all agree never — never to 
be married. If that be your minds, please 
to manifest it.” 

The girls looked astonished. 

"I’ve been reading Mythology,” pursued 


THE RUBY SEAL. 


19 


Grace, "and some of the nicest goddesses 
and nymphs didn’t marry — Diana, and 
Minerva, and Clytie, and Sappho.” 

"We’re not goddesses and nymphs, 1 
hope,” said Diademia Jones, shaking her 
head. 

"Nor heathens,” added Isa, with spirit. 

"O, no; but it ladies want to be very 
great, and do oceans of good, and write 
poems and everything, why, they mustn’t 
be married. You see how it is, girls ; 
there’s so much housekeeping and sewing 
to attend to.” 

"But, then,” added Lucy Lane, mourn- 
fully, "if we’re not married, we’ll be — old 
maids ! ” 

"O, no, indeed,” said Grace, positively. 
"Why, if you’re great and splendid, you 
never will — no such a thing ! Maria 
Edgeworth was splendid, and she never was 


20 


COUSIN GRACE. 


an old maid that ever I heard of. And 
there was — ” 

"Grace Greenwood,” suggested Cassy, in 
the tone of one who has added the finishing 
stroke to «in argument. 

But the girls exclaimed, — 

" Why, Grace Greenwood is married : 
what are you talking about? There, there, 
people can he married, and be splendid, 
too.” 

Grace felt that her cause had received a 
blow. 

" Now, girls,” said she, after a pause, 
"I’ll tell you how it is. Grace Greenwood 
was married a long while ago. If she was 
a little girl now, and saw such acting boys, 
she’d say, ' It’s an awful thing ! ’ Why, 
girls, I think, for my part,” Grace went on 
with much dignity, "we lower ourselves, 
we degrade ourselves, when we associate 


THE RUBY SEAL. 


21 


with boys. They smoke, and chew, and 
use very improper language. It does seem 
to me we’re white lilies, and they’re nothing 
but — but thistles. Let’s faithfully promise 
not to converse with boys, — unless it’s to 
try and reform them, you know.” 

"Our brothers,” urged soft-voiced Lucy 
Lane, timidly. 

"Yes, our brothers,” murmured the other 
girls. 

"And our cousins, you know,” added 
dashing Diademia Jones. 

No one was quite so enthusiastic over this 
non-marrying resolve as Grace had expected ; 
still, the vote was passed with much solem- 
nity, the girls resigning themselves to the 
prospect of single lives like a little band of 
heroines. They were now certain of becom- 
ing distinguished, and might be doctors, 
judges, or ministers, just as they liked. 


22 


COUSIN GRACE. 


though, as Grace very justly remarked, there 
need be no haste about choosing professions. 

It was decided that Grace should be queen 
of the Euby Seal Society. The girls bound 
themselves to one another by solemn pledges, 
and if any member should, by word or deed, 
do anything to the injury of a princess, the 
offender was to be expelled at once. The 
name, and even the existence, of the society 
must be kept a profound secret. They 
agreed that a lecture should be delivered 
once a month, the queen leading off, and the 
princesses following in turn, according to 
ages, y 

Isa Harrington tried to pass a resolution 
against any two members of the society 
being especially intimate, and setting them- 
selves up for "particular friends.” She was 
quite eloquent upon this resolution, but was 
frowned intc silence by Grace, who would 


THE RUBY SEAL. 


23 


have cried, "Down with the Ruby Seal,* 
sooner than she would have given up Cassy 
for an intimate friend. 

The society broke up mutually pleased, 
every one of the princesses scaling the com- 
pact with a kiss, and parting with the pass- 
word for the month, " Vera." The only 
discontented face was Isa’s, and her hand- 
some eyes darkened with jealousy as she 
looked back and saw that Grace lingered, 
talking with Cassy. What was there about 
Cassy Hallock so very remarkable? For 
Isa’s part, she couldn’t see that she was 
better than other folks ! Ah, Isa Harring- 
ton, look out for that tiny serpent of jealousy. 
Crush it before it grows to a monster. 

Grace and Cassy walked slowly along, 
their arms about each other’s waists, chat- 
ting socially, and making the most of the 
time, for Cassy was to g to Kentucky the 


24 


COUSIN GRACE. 


next week. There are few things more pure 
and delightful than the mutual friendship of 
two good little girls. Isa Harrington, to be 
sure, did not think so ; but her jealousy was 
not more than half suspected by Grace and 
Gassy. 

The Cliffords lived a little way out of town, 
and their beautiful grounds were soon in full 
view. The broad lawn, enclosed by a trimly- 
cut hedge, was now of a sleepy brown, in 
harmony with the freestone house which 
stood on a terrace overlooking the clusters 
of evergreen trees and well-trained shrub- 
bery. On the other side of the house was a 
conservatory filled with choice flowers, and 
beyond that the cottage of Mr. Sherwood, 
the English gardener. 

The girls parted at their trysting-place, 
the " acorn-tree,’’ and Grace walked the 
rest of the way alone, musing upon the glo- 


THE RUBY SEAL. 


2 h 


rious destiny which awaited the distin- 
guished Miss Clifford in the rosy future. X 

When within a few steps of the gate, she 
saw her mother coming from Mr. Sher- 
wood’s cottage in apparent haste. There 
was evidently some cause of disturbance, 
for every member of the Sherwood family 
ran out of the house, one after another, fol- 
lowed by Barbara Kinckle, with her apron 
over her head. 

"What is the matter?” cried Grace, rush- 
ing into the yard in breathless haste. 

"Nothing much,” replied Barbara, trying 
to speak calmly. "Your brother has only 
been and lost hisself. But don’t you have 
no fears, Miss Grace ; he never did go and 
tall in the river.” 

Every particle of color fled from Grace’s 
face. She forget that Horace belonged to 
the condemned race of " awful boys.” Tho 


26 


COUSIN GRACE. 


bare possibility that he might be drowned 
was too horrible ! 

"O, Barby,” she cried out. "O, Mr. 
Sherwood, run for the river.” 

And, for her own part, she ran round and 
round in a maze, wringing her hands, peep- 
ing under the hedge, examining the gravel 
path, and all the places where Horace cer- 
tainly could not be, even if he had tried to 
conceal himself. Mr. Sherwood and his 
wife had gone to the river. 

"It is, perhaps, a foolish alarm,” said Mrs. 
Clifford, pacing the yard. " Horace asked 
me to let him go, with some other boys, 
shooting squirrels ; but I said Ao, very de- 
cidedly. I cannot think Horace would 
disobey me so.” 

” Hurrah ! ” shouted a boyish voice from 
the house. " Here is the runaway, safe and 
sound. Please come here, Mrs. Clifford, if 
you want to see a curiosity.” 


THE RUBY SEAL. 


27 


Mrs. Clifford, Grace, and Barbara went 
up stairs with hearts wonderfully lightened. 

" Further yet,” said Robert Sherwood’s 
voice from a distance. 

Ascending the fourth flight of stairs, they 
entered the square, unfinished room called 
the Observatory. Here sat the boy who had 
caused this anxiety, surrounded by a chaos 
of tools, blocks of wood, pieces of tin, and 
coils of rope. 

"Now, there!” cried he, bending his 
elbows into acute angles, and trying to 
hide his work in his leather apron. "What 
made you come in my shop ? My pa 
said — ” 

"My son,” said Mrs. Clifford, trying not 
to smile at the boy’s perplexed gestures and 
eager attempts to put things out of sight, 
" if you had only told us you kept shop in 
the roof of the house, we should have been 
spared this needless alarm.” 


28 


COUSIN GRACE. 


" Yes, Horace Clifford,” said Grace, lofti- 
ly, " I do despise to see any one so secret 
and mysterious.” 

"I wonders we didn’t think he was whit- 
tling sticks some-place,” said Barbara, glan- 
cing admiringly at Horace. 

"Well, now you know,” said the boy, 
fidgeting. "You’ve found me, and I wasn’t 
lost ; now can’t you go off ? ” 

"Pretty talk to your ma,” cried Grace. 

"O, ma, I don’t mean you. But I just 
don’t want anybody to see this thing I’m 
making till it’s plum done.” 

" Plum done ! ” repeated Grace ; " where 
did you pick up such droll words ? and why 
will you twist your mouth so, Horace? ” 

The boy threw down his jackknife with 
a jerk of despair. 

"There, now, can’t you go away? — I 
mean you and Barby. ’Tisn’t fair play. 


THE RUBY SEAL. 


29 


This is my own shop-room, and my pa said 
I could keep my tool-chest in it ; and there 
shouldn’t anybody — ” 

But Horace found himself talking to 
empty air, for his visitors had disappeared. 
He unrolled his leather apron, removed the 
bit of straw matting from sundry boards, 
and gazed at them fondly, muttering, " Too 
good for Grade, now isn’t it, when she 
blows me up so?” But for all that, he 
set to work again till it was so dark that he 
could not see to guide his jackknife ; when 
he went down stairs, declaring — to use his 
own words — that he " was hungry enough 
to eat ginger.” 

Phebe, the little colored girl, who, dur- 
ing all the excitement about Horace, had 
been obliged to stay in the nursery with the 
baby, was glad now to wash dishes for 
Barbara, and pour into her ears complaints 


COUSIN GRACE. 


60 

of wee Katie, who was, she said, "a right 
cross one — as cross as two hundred sticks.” 

Barbara listened in indignant silence, only 
asking at last, " What for a baby would she 
be now, if she goes to cut her teeth and 
doesn’t cry ? ” 

"Bravo ! Chalk Eyes,” cried Horace, sud- 
denly rushing out upon Phebe, " none of 
your grumbling.” 

" O, Horace,” whispered Grace, reprov- 
ingly, "hush saying Chalk Eyes. Haven’t 
you any feeling for poor discolored crea- 
tures ? ” 

" Poh, Gracie ! JSfiggroes don’t feel any 
worse than we do. Come, let’s play catch.” 

They played till they were called into the 
parlor to learn their Sabbath school lessons. 

Grace’s last waking thought was about 
the new society. Who knew but they 
might some day build a little asylum for 


THE RUBY §EAU. 


s\ 

poor children? People would wonder and 
admire. Well, nobody should know a word 
about it yet, — not for a year and a day. 
Just as if girls couldn’t keep secrets ! And 
Grace at last dropped to sleep with her 
finger on her lip. 


GRACE. 


32 


CHAPTER III, 

THE PRIZE. 

The princesses quite enjoyed their stolen 
meetings and their mysterious signs. O, 
how little the world suspected that they 
were keeping weighty secrets ! So surprised 
as the world would be if the princesses only 
had a mind to tell ! 

It was evident that Isabel was more in- 
terested as soon as Cassy Hallock had gone 
away to Kentucky. Then there was no 
rivalry, for Isa was sure that she stood next 
to Cassy in Grace Clifford’s esteem. 

But an event soon occurred which caused 
the Ruby Seal to sink into comparative incig- 


THE PRIZE. 


3b 


nificancc. The graduating class walked 
home from school one evening, looking, 
one and all, as if they had something on 
their minds. They were talking of a prize 
which nad been promised' to the best scholar 
at close of school. Judith Pitcher, the gill 
with long features and melancholy eyes, 
looked discouraged. Diademia Jones, who 
usually wore a Berlin iron breastpin, which 
looked like an ink-blot, pouted, and said she 
wouldn’t try: what did she care? Weak 
little Lucy Lane was nervous, and declared, 
if she hadn’t staid home and got behind m 
her lessons, she might try ; but, as it was, 
she didn’t call it quite fair. 

All agreed it was a pity that Cassy Hal- 
jock should be away ; they wondered her 
ma would allow her to go visiting in the 
midst of the term. 

One little girl, with bright and a*ii- 


u 


COUSIN GRACE. 


mated face, listened to all these remarks, 
but said nothing herself. 

Grace Clifford. and Isabel Harrington were 
walking together, hand in hand. This was 
not quite to Grace’s fancy. If she might 
have had her way, she would hardly have 
joined hands with any one but Cassy, cer^ 
tainly not with Isa, who was not a particu- 
lar favorite of hers. 

They happened to be walking directly 
behind Mahla Linck and Diademia Jones. 
Diademia, or Di, as she was called, was 
saying, " I reckon you'll get the prize, 
Mahla, dear. I’m sure I hope so.” 

A pink color flushed Mahla’s pale cheeks, 
and she looked very eager, but said, sadly, — 

"No use, I)i. I could, perhaps, if it 
wasn’t for Gracie Clifford ; but she’s so 
smart in arithmetic she’ll get it. O, I’m 
sure she will.” 


THE PRIZE. 


35 


And as Muhla spoke she seemed to lean 
more helplessly on her crutch, and to limp 
more painfully than ever. She little knew 
that every word she spoke was overheard by 
Grace Clifford, and was sinking deep into 
her heart. 

Mahla was a gentle, studious girl, pitied 
by every one for her incurable lameness, 
and beloved for the sweet patience with 
which she bore her great sufferings. It was 
certainly Grace’s intention, and had been 
ever since the promise of a prize, to try for 
it; but when she heard Mahla’s hopeless 
words she was grieved, and felt an impulse 
to rush forward and throw her arms about 
the poor girl’s neck, and say, " Now don’t 
be afraid of me, Mahla. I’ll not stand in 
your way.” 

But this impulse Grace checked at once. 
In the first place, it would have been a silly 


36 


COUSIN GRACE. 


parade of sentiment, she thought ; and, in 
the second place, ambition was a strong 
feature in Grace’s character ; she could not, 
without a struggle, give up the hope of a 
prize. 

By this time she and Isabel had crossed 
the street, and heard nothing more that 
passed between Mahla and her companion. 

"Well, Gracie, dear,” said Isa, "I’d be 
ashamed, if I was Di Jones, to talk about 
Mahla Linck’s getting tins prize, when Di 
knows well enough Mahla isn’t half so 
good a scholar as you are.” 

"O, but she is, though, Isa,” said Grace, 
faintly. "Mahla’s very studious, very, in- 
deed.” 

"Studious? Yes, she stays in from recess 
because she can’t play. Now, if Gassy was 
here, she’d try for the prize — wouldn’t she, 
Gracie ? ” 


THE PRIZE. 


37 


"I dare say — I don’t know.” 

"Well, she’s the last person to be afraid 
of,” said Isa, sharply. She could neve; 
speak of Cassy without a feeling akin to 
anger. The thought of the tender friend- 
ship which existed between Grace and Cassy 
was like gall and wormwood to the unhappy, 
jealous little girl. 

" Why, Isa, to hear you talk, one would 
think that Cassy was dull ! I’in sure Cassy’s 
smart ! ” 

" O, dear me,” said Isa, " how you do take 
a body up ! I said Cassy’s the last person 
to be afraid of, — I mean for you to be 
afraid of. She’s smart, Cassy is ; but then 
everybody knows, Gracie, she isn’t so smart 
as you are, and don’t begin to be.” 

"I’d like to know,” thought Grace, as she 
parted with Isa, and walked from the acorn* 
tree alone, — "I’d just like to know what 


38 


COUSIN GRACE. 


does possess Isa to be so spiteful about 
(Jassy I I wish that darling old Cassy was 
here this minute ! I don’t see what I did 
without her all last summer, when I was 
east ! ” 

" Ma,” cried Grace, rushing into the par- 
lor,. swinging her hat by one string, "just 
guess what a splendid thing has happened ! 
The three live trustees were all in school 
this day, and you never saw the like of 
the way they smiled and patted us on the 
head, ma ! And they’re going to give a 
beautiful prize to the one that improves 
most between this and July, and passes 
the best examination for the High School, 
you know.” 

" Indeed, and shall you try for it, my 
dear?” 

" I don’t know, ma, ! replied Grace, with 
quivering lips ; for just at that moment 


THE PRIZE. 


39 

Mahla’s words, ” Grace Clifford will get it , 
I’m sure slie win,” came back and rang in 
her ears. 

Mrs. Clifford saw that something was 
troubling her daughter, but refrained from 
asking any questions. She always preferred 
that Grace should confide in her of her 
own free will. 

" I don’t know, my child,” said she, 
" that I can say I am glad of this pro- 
ject.” 

" But wouldn’t you be proud to have mo 
get it — not the least bit proud, ma?” 

Mrs. Clifford smiled meaningly. 

" O, no, ma; not exactly proud; pleased 
and gratified, I mean.” 

" You alway» gratify me, my child, when 
you do your best. As for your excelling 
your schoolmates, why should I care fol 
you to do that?” 


COUSIN GRACE. 


#0 


Grace thought her father would not li3 
ten to her story as coolly as her mothej 
had done. 

" What’s this I hear about a prize ? ” said 
he that evening. And Grace grew quite 
eager again, describing the benevolent looks 
and manners of the trustees, and declaring 
that the prize must be something elegant, 
everybody said. " But how did you hea* 
of it, pa?” 

" Your head trustee and I talked the 
matter over yesterday.” 

" You didn’t approve of it, Henry?* 
asked Mrs. Clifford, looking surprised. 

"I did, Maria: why not? Dear knows 
there’s need enough of ambition in ovr 
schools. *’ 

" But, Henry, I don’t like children to 
strive so hard to outdo one another. Don’t 
you think prizes are likely tc awaken envy 
find ill-feeling ~ r n 


THE PRIZE. 


41 


Grace listened with her eager mind ah 
awake. She very well knew that on such 
a question a little girl’s opinion is worth 
nothing; still it seemed strange that her 
mamma could talk of "envy and ill feel- 
ing” in the same breath with the Girls’ 
Grammar School. Mrs. Clifford, however, 
did not know of the Ruby Seal, which had 
united the girls in such strong bonds of 
friendship that it would never be possible 
for a trifle like this to part them. 

Captain Clifford settled himself into his 
dressing-gown and slippers. "I know,’' 
said he, "there arc various opinions with 
regard to giving prizes ; but so far as my 
own experience goes, they are real helps to 
industry. Begging your pardon, Maria, J 
highly approve of anything that quickens 
the ambition.” 

Grace’s eyes shone. 


42 


COUSIN GRACE. 


* Fes,” continued Captain Clifford, strok* 
mg his daughter’s hair, " and if our Grace 
can win the prize, I’ll promise to give her 
a handsome present to go with it.” 

Grace gave a little scream of delight. 
K O, pa,” cried she, throwing her arms about 
Captain Clifford’s neck, "you’re just the 
greatest darling ! I do believe nobody else 
ever had such a father.” 

Mrs. Clifford looked at her little girl’s 
flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, and 
feared a sleepless night for her. " Re-* 
member this, Grade,” said she, gently: 
"'The reward is in the race we run, not 
in the prize.’ Do your best, and then 
never mind who wins.” 

Grace laughed nervously. 

" Ma doesn’t care a speck,” she thought. 
"You can’t get ma eager about anything; 
but pa cares. O, dear me, won’t I work 
hard just for the snko of pleasing pal” 


THE PRIZE. 


43 


It occurred to Grace that she must write 
at ouce to Cassy, and tell her what Mahla 
had said. Those mournful words, " Grace 
will get it,” haunted her. It seemed to 
the child that she could not press forward 
and gain the prize without walking right 
over Mahla’s heart. So Grace seated her- 
self at the centre-table, and opened her 
little writing-desk ; when her father, who 
had been quietly reading to himself, sud- 
denly exclaimed, "Really, Maria, this is 
horrible,” and began to read aloud an ac- 
count of the last battle. 

When Grace heard any mention of the 
war, she either stopped her ears or ran 
away. Now she hastily gathered up her 
writing materials, and went into the kitchen, 
where Barbara sat with her unfailing black 
knitting-work. Barbara was very glad to 
have her tidy premises honored with a visit, 


44 


COUSIN GRACE. 


and insisted upon bringing an arm-chail 
out of the dining-room for her guest. 

Grace seated herself at the kitchen table, 
which was as white as it could be scoured ; 
but scarcely had she smoothed out her 
paper and written "Darling old Cassy,” 
when Horace appeared in the door-way, 
making mysterious signals to Barbara. 
What could the boy mean? The good, 
foggy-brained German girl was sorely 
puzzled, — did not know the deaf and 
dumb alphabet, and could never take a 
hint. 

" Come here, then, Barby,” cried the boy ; 
" I’ll make you ‘ fer stand.’ ” 

" So I’m the one in the way,” said Grace, 
quickly ; " you’re so mightily mysterious, all 
of a sudden, Horace ! ” 

"Good evening, Grace,” said Robert 
Sherwood, appearing at the door; "what 
abou* the ^rize ? " 


THE PRIZE. 


45 


" O, dear, I don’t know, Robin.” 

" What think I heard? That the trial 
would lie between two of you girls — 
Graec Clifford and Mahla Linck.” 

Grace flushed to the temples. 

Then other people thought that, as well 
as the school-girls. 

" What are you doing, Grace ? ” said Hor- 
ace, returning from the dining-room, and 
eying his sister’s writing-desk with some 
curiosity. 

’'Writing a letter, or trying to,” replied 
Grace,' flourishing her pen nervously in 
the air. 

"Why is your letter like the equator?’’ 
said Robert. 

"Equator? Don’t know. Can’t stop to 
gue3s conundrums.” 

"Because it’s only an imaginary line.” 

"My letter? O, Robin, how smart 1 It 


46 


COUSIN GRACE. 


always will be imaginary, I reckon, while 
you boys stand there looking at me. Do, 
piease, let me alone!” 

" O, good by, South Carolina,” said 
Robert, bowing. "I’m off.” 

" Good by, Car’linc,” echoed little Hor- 
ace, with a patronizing sweep of his thumb. 

Grace returned to her writing, her feelings 
still somewhat ruffled. She had proceeded 
as far as "I want to see you more than 
tongue can tell,” when Horace burst into 
the room again with a second message to 
Barbara. 

" Is there, or is there not, a place in this 
house where a body can go to write a let- 
ter?” cried Grace, rising and pushing back 
her paper. But her remark was un- 
heeded. Barbara and Horace went on 
whispering together, and seemed to be enjoy- 
ing their little secret, whatever it might be. 


THE PRIZE. 


47 


Grace’s nerves were quivering from the 
day’s excitement. "I’m not cross,” thought 
she. "O, no, not cross ; but I’d like to give 
that boy a good shaking. It’s not my 
temper, it’s my ’nervous system.’ The 
doctor said my nervous system was torn to 
pieces by the chills.” 

Grace would never forget this unfortu- 
nate remark of her physician. But she was 
a sensible girl, and it suddenly occurred 
to her that her "nervous system” could 
never go to scolding unless she opened her 
mouth. Bitter, sharp words sprang to her 
tongue ; but if her tongue was only " kept 
between her teeth,” the words couldn’t fly 
out. "I’ll just ’lock my lips,’” mused 
Grace, "for, as ma says, 'A spoken word no 
chariot can overtake, though it be drawn 
by four swift horses.’” 

Tedious little Horace at last made an end 


48 


COUSIN GRACE. 


of his story, and left the kitchen whistling 
either Dixie or Yankee Doodle, no mortal 
could tell which ; for out of Horace’s mouth 
they were one and the same thing. Bar- 
bara seated herself, and resumed her knit- 
ting. She usually nodded over that black 
stocking as drowsily as if it had been a 
treatise on philosophy, or something quite 
as stupid ; but to-night she was painfully 
wide awake. 

"O, my patience !” thought Grace ; "can’t 
she look at anything but me?” 

There by the stove sat the glaring white 
kitty, staring at Grace with winking eyelids, 
and on the mantel stood the clock ticking 
at her, and in the corner sat Barby clicking 
needles at her ; every tick and every click 
seeming to go through Grace’s ears like 
r *;rcussion caps. 

"Miss Grace,” said Barbara, picking up 


THE PRIZE. 


49 


a stitch, "be you writin’ to Susy Bar- 
lin ? ” 

" No, Barby,” replied Grace, frowning at 
her paper. 

Barbara went on with her knitting, the 
clock went on with its .ticking, and the cat 
still stared at Grace. Presently Barbara 
dropped another stitch. "Miss Grace,” said 
she, " does you write to little Brudy Barlin ? ” 

" No, Barby ; to Cassy. But seems to me 
you’re amazingly wide awake.” 

" Yes, dear ; I doesn’t feel sleepy a bit.” 

Sharp words were on Grace’s tongue 
again ; but she said gently, after a pause, — 

"Barby, will you please not talk? It 
troubles me.” 

" Bless your little white heart,” cried 
Barby, turning about, and putting her feet 
on the stove hearth, " not a word more will 
I speak.” 


4 


50 


COUSIN GRACE. 


Grace felt quieted. She had fought 
against her * nervous system,” and con- 
quered a peace. Now, for the first time, she 
could write, and forget clocks, cats, and 
knitting-needles in her subject. She told 
Cassy just what her father said, what her 
mother said, and how " there never was any- 
thing she wanted so much as that splendid 
prize.” 

Then she spoke of Mahla Linck, and asked 
Cassy to be sure and write what she thought 
about her. Would it be a shame to try to get 
ahead of a poor lame girl ? Why need one 
mind Mahla more than the other princesses? 
Hadn’t one a right to push by all that came 
in one’s way? 

Somehow Grace did not wish to tell her 
mother of the strife going on in her mind 
K Ma wouldn’t care a picayune about my win- 
ning,” thought she ; " she’d say, ' Give it up 


THE PRIZE. 


51 


to the little German.’ Ma is almost too 
good to live. But pa cares about it ; O, I 
can see that pa cares very much.” 

Grace’s mind was settling itself. By writ® 
ing the facts in black and white they had 
become clearer to her. Now she was fully 
decided what course to take about Mahla. 
She wrote till nine o’clock, then signed her- 
self, "Yours, like everything — Grade.” 

"Now, Barby,” said she, "you may talk 
as much as you please, for I’ve no more 
writing to do. Much obliged to you for 
keeping so still.” 

Barby laughed in high good humor, and 
going into the pantry, brought out a funny 
little table, about a foot and a half long. It 
was a miniature extension table, of black 
walnut, freshly polished with sweet oil. 
Grace clapped her hands, screaming with 
delight. 


52 


COUSIN GRACE. 


"Why, where did this come from? Just 
what I’ve wanted for my dining-room depart- 
ment, Barby, ever since I had my cabinet ! ” 

Barbara took out the inside leaves, making 
an oval centre-table. 

" O, so cunning ! Whose is it, Barby? I 
haven’t felt like I could give dinner parties 
for my enormous doll on that tea-poy — it’s 
too tall.” 

Barbara laughed quietly, by and by telling 
Grace that this new article of furniture was 
hers, made on purpose for her by Horace. 
Grace could hardly believe it, for even a 
small extension table requires much mechani- 
cal skill. 

"O, but he has worked at it all the days 
for so long ! ” said Barbara, who was ex- 
tremely proud of Horace. 

Upon inquiry, she confessed that he had 
been to see the "tischler’’ (joiner) "two 
times,” and that Robin had helped him a little. 


THE PRIZE. 


53 


* O, where’s Horace?” cried Grace; "1 
want to see him this minute, to thank him 
for my beautiful present.” 

” Sound abed and asleep,” replied the Ger- 
man girl, yawning. 

When had Barby been known to sit up so 
late? Faithful creature, she had kept her 
sleepy eyes open for the sake of present- 
ing this pretty table to Grace; for, as she 
said, " I just does like to hear her laugh S ” 

" Deary me,” thought Grace, "if I’d spoken 
up pettishly when she bothered me sc, I’d 
want to bite my tongue out ! Beckon I know 
of something as good for my f nervou* sys- 
tem’ quinine ; and that’s patience.” 


H 


COUSIN GRACE. 


CHAPTER IV. 

A SNAKE IN THE GRASS. 

Next morning, when Barbara was build- 
ing the kitchen fire, she heard the sound of 
small boots, and, looking up, saw Horace, 
who had run down stairs in such haste that 
as yet he had put on but one sleeve of his 
jacket. 

"Ho, Barby!” — Horace considered it a 
waste of breath to say "good morning,” — . 
* what were the first words she said ? ” 

” Let’s me think,” replied Barby, with an 
air of deep reflection. 'Where did this thing 
came from?’ Them’s the first words she 
said.” 


A SNAKE IN THE GRASS. 


55 


" That all ? Poh ! If I’d known that, I 
wouldn’t have touched to make it ! Did you 
tell her Ike Davis couldn’t? and he’s learned 
the joiner’s trade, too.” 

" There, now, if I didn’t forget to say 
dat ! ” 

"Why, Barby, I wouldn’t have thought 
that of you, now ! ” 

"But she liked it. She was just as 
pleased.” 

"Pleased, was she? Did she clap her 
hands ? ” 

"Yes; clapped ’em hard, she did, and 
laughed.” 

"Will she put it in her cabinet, think, 
Barby?” 

" O, yes ; she said it’s what she did always 
want.” 

Horace’s face brightened like the moon 
sailing out of a cloud. Grace’s cabinet held 


56 


COUSIN GRACE. 


no jliing but choice articles, and was kept as 
orderly as a paper of pins. 

" See here, Barby ; you needn’t tell Grade 
I asked you any questions.” 

When the children met that morning, 
Grace threw her arms about her brother’s 
neck, — 

"O, Horace, dear, there never was any- 
thing so nice as my little dining-table.” 

"Poh ! ” exclaimed the boy, dipping, swal- 
low-like, this way and that, to avoid a kiss. 

" Why, you dear little brother, mayn’t I 
kiss you for thanks ? ” said the affectionate 
sister, trying to find a spot on his face which 
was not in motion. She succeeded at last 
in touching his forehead with her lips. 

"There, once'll do,” said Horace, impa- 
tiently ; for he considered kissing an amiable 
weakness, and only submitted to it as a 
painful duty. 


A SNAKE IN THE GRASS. 


57 


w O, pshaw ! ” said he ; " such a fuss over 
just nothing ! ” 

And this was all the remark he would 
deign to make concerning a piece of work 
which must have cost him many days of 
hard labor. Still, he was proud of his suc- 
cess, and for a long while afterward felt 
the keenest delight in seeing that table 
brought out for exhibition to visitors, or 
standing in a corner adorned with his sister’s 
work-box. 

Grace had a bright face this morning, as 
Mrs. Clifford noticed at once. She sent 
her letter to the post-office by her father, 
then had a frolic with Horace, who was 
rather "wildish,” and with little Katie, who, 
for a wonder, did not appear to be cutting a 
tooth that morning, and was " as cunning as 
a baby can be and live.” 

As Grace entered the school-room, she 


58 


COUSIN GRACE. 


met Mahla Linck, whose white face warmed 
to a, glow at her friendly greeting. 

" She’s the girl that thinks it’s of no use 
to try for the prize,” thought Grace. "Poor 
thing, I’ll soon make her understand that 
she needn’t be afraid of Grace Clifford.” 

The school was called to order, and the 
teacher, a tall, fine-looking young lady, be- 
gan to read the morning lesson in the New 
Testament. A part of the beautiful Sermon 
on the Mount was repeated by teacher and 
pupils. When they came to the words, 
w Whatsoever ye would that men should do 
unto you, do ye even so to them,” Grace 
involuntarily glanced across the room to Mah- 
la, who sat resting her head on her hand. 
Such a hand ! You could trace its veins a? 
easily as the blue lines in white paper. Her 
pale hair shone in the sun like threads of 
gold. 


A SNAKE IN THE GRASS. 


59 


Grace’s eyes were fixed on the little girl 
with a sort of fascination. If anything could 
be done to help poor Mahla, she would do 
it. What though by helping her she should 
lessen her own chance of the prize ? Never 
mind. Hadn’t Christ made the Golden 
Rule? Grace had fought out the battle 
with herself the night before. She had put 
her hand to the plough, and would not look 
back. 

When recess-time came, Mahla had no 
heart for play, but kept her seat, still vex- 
ing herself over a question in analysis, 
which was buried in a fog. 

Grace watched her with real pity. It was 
almost unaccountable, she thought, how any 
one who had ever studied " Colburn’s Men- 
tal ” could be puzzled by anything in analy- 
sis. But Grace was a natural mathemati- 
cian, and Mahla was not. 


60 


COUSIN GRACE. 


When school was over at noon, the pale 
young German girl still sat biting her slate 
pencil, and pressing one colorless hand upon 
her throbbing temples. 

' e Now, what is it, Mahla ? ” said the sweet 
voice of Grace Clifford, as she came and 
leaned over her friend’s shoulder, her face 
covered with smiles. " I do believe you’re 
puzzling over the same thing that vexe? 
everybody so to-day. Want me to sho\f 
you just a speck? For you’ll catch the 
headache, Mahla, if you think so hard.” 
Mahla gave a sigh of relief. 

"I don’t know, Gracie j things seem to 
spin round and round ; I can’t get a start.” 

" Let’s look at it, Mahla. Do piece work 
< — three men — how many days? It’s that 
same old firm of A, B, and C. How long 
suppose they’ve been in company? I just 
believe they set up a shop in the ark-” 


Grace helping Mahla. 


Page 60. 




A SNAKE IN THE GRASS. 


61 


Mahla laughed a little, the first time for 
that day ; and it did her good. " Well, 
now, if those old patriarchs, A, B, and 
C — ” But we will not follow Grace in her 
explanation. She never wearied till Mahla’s 
eyes brightened, and she cried out, "O, 
how stupid ! Why couldn’t I see that 
before? You make things so clear! You 
do beat everything in arithmetic, Grade.” 

Then Mahla laid aside her slate and book 
with a smile of heartfelt satisfaction, and 
made ready to eat her dinner of plain bread 
and butter and Dutch cheese. Grace 
dropped an orange into her basket. 

"Good by, Mahla. If you have any more 
trouble with those horrid questions, let me 
know, please. Remember, we belong to 
the Iiuby Seal, and are bound to help one 
another.” 

Mahla looked up with a face full of joy 


62 


COUSIN GRACE. 


and gratitude, and tried to speak her thanks. 
But a swelling in her throat choked hei 
voice. 

Grace felt strangely happy as she bounded 
out of the school-yard ; yet the exquisite 
joy which throbbed at her heart, and called 
tears to her eyes, was not so much happi- 
ness as blessedness. She had obeyed the 
Saviour’s Golden Rule in a sweet, unselfish 
spirit, and had her reward. 

Just outside the gate she met Isa Harring- 
ton, who had been waiting for her in pa- 
tiently. " What did keep you so 1( ng, 
Gracie ? ” 

" O, I was talking with Mahla,” replied 
Grace, who did not care to make a parade 
of her generous deeds. 

*'It’s right kind in you to take so much 
notice of Dutch girls,” pursued Isa, who was 
extremely anxious to make the most of 


A SNAKE IN THE GRASS. 




Jassy’s absence, and win Grace’s favor . a 
far as she could, not caring how much flat- 
tery she used for the purpose. 

" Whj , Isa, she’s a respectable German 
*— Mahla is.” 

" O, yes, Gracie ; but her ma used to 
work at your house before she was married. 
Wouldn’t catch Gassy Hallock making so 
much of tlieir hired girl’s children. One of 
the kid-glove sort Gassy is, or would be if 
she was only rich.” 

w Not proud, Isa Harrington.” 

Isa cleared her throat. 

"Deary me, no! I declare, I forgot I 
was talking to you! You’ll never hear a 
word against Cassy, and I don’t blame .you, 
Grace Clifford.” 

Grace’s joyous mood changed ; she looked 
vexed. Why would Isa persist in saying 
iittle hateful things, which pricked like 
cambric needles? 


COUSIN GRACE. 


(54 

"We girls would like to see Cassy Hai- 
lock stand up so for you — that’s all,” added 
Isa, shutting her mouth firmly, as if her teeth 
were all on edge. 

" Well, so she would. Cassy never would 
hear me abused. She’s not a milk-and-water 
sort of person ; and that you know, Isa 
Harrington ! ” 

Isa cleared her throat again with a pro- 
voking cough, which said, as plainly as 
words, "O, couldn’t 1 tell you something 
surprising if I only would ! ” 

"Isa Harrington,” said Grace, impetuously, 
* what’s that you say ? ” 

"1 said nothing at all,” replied Isa, de- 
murely. 

" But you look mighty wise. I’d sooner a 
body’d speak right out than to look so wise ; 
l would so, Isa.” 

"Ah, Gracie. I could tell a heap of thinga 


A SNAKE IN THE GRASS. 


65 


1 reckon; but no good — you wouldn’t be- 
lieve a word.” 

" Speak out,” said Grace, severely, as she 
proceeded to curl a dandelion stem. 

" Ahem ! Remember that time you had 
the oyster supper at your house, don’t you, 
Gracie? Well, did you stay in the room 
with the company? I always wanted to 
know.” 

"Yes, Isa, part of the time. Why?” 

Isa rolled her eyes, and looked unuttera- 
ble things. 

" O, nothing, only Mrs. Hallock was there, 
you know. Ahem! Well, next day, Mrs. 
Hallock said to her husband, and Cassy was 
right there in the room — ” 

Isa hesitated. It seemed to be her pain- 
ful duty to stop. 

"Do go on,” said Grace. "If it’s ever so 
bad I want to hear it.” 


66 


COUSIN GRACE. 


" I just happened to think, Gracie, dear, 
you haven’t promised not to tell.” 

"And I’ll not promise any such thing, 
Isa,” cried Grace, spiritedly. 

"Then I’ve said all I’m going to,” replied 
Isa, folding her arms in a hard knot. 

" But you’re not going to leave off right in 
the middle ! Now, Isa, that’s not fair.” 

"Well, no more it isn’t fair for you not to 
promise.” 

By this time Tiey had nearly reached 
Captain Clifford’s, for Isa had walked a long 
distance out of her way to accompany Grace. 

"Isa Harrington, I think you might tell.” 

" Gracie Clifford, I think you might prom- 
ise.” 

"Isa, I’d never dare. ’Twould fly out of 
my lips when I saw Cassy, and I couldn’t 
help it. Don’t make me tell a lie ! ” 

Grace ate her dinner that noon in silence 


A SNAKE IN THE GRASS. 


67 


What dreadful thing could Mrs. Hallock 
have said to her husband? 

" Nothing much, I reckon ; Cassy wouldn’t 
go and tell stories about me ! I’ll trust 
Cassy as long as I live.” 

Grace twirled her regard-ring about her 
finger. " I’d be crazy if I believed my best 
friend was false ! ” 

Still the thought troubled her. Grace 
had asked Cassy ’s views regarding the prize. 
To her it seemed a thousand pities that 
Cassy should have gone away, and so missed 
all chance of it. Cassy’s reply was just 
like her. She didn’t care her little finger for 
the prize. " It wouldn’t probably be worth 
more than five dollars, any way ; and as she 
had five dollars already, what could she want 
of any more ? ” She didn’t see why Grace 
should want it, either; but if she did, Cassy 
hoped she’d get it. " If Mahla feels badly, 


68 


COUSIN GRACE. 


you can give her something,” added Cassy, 
sagely. 

Grace pondered over this letter for some 
time. It was short and to the purpose, for 
its writer never wasted words. Grace fan- 
cied, too, that it was rather cool ; but every 
time a doubt tried to creep into her mind, 
she shut it out, saying to herself, — 

" Cassy’s my dear friend : I’ll trust Cassy 
as long as I live.” 

From this time Mahla Linck seemed to 
take a fresh start in arithmetic. Grace 
knew very well that as much as she helped 
Mahla, just so much she hindered herself. 
In everything but figures Mahla excelled. 
Her copy-book was a pattern of neatness ; 
she could spell quite accurately ; and as for 
geography, she was at home all over the 
world. But if left to herself, she was sure 
to spoil the whole by her dulness in arith- 
metic. 


A SNAKE IN THE GRASS. 


69 


Miss Allen wsls not possessed of "long 
patience,” and dear little Mahla could make 
nothing of her scientific explanations. But 
Grace had a way of shedding light on that 
dismal book, which, though called Hay's 
Arithmetic, was quite rayless to Mahla. So 
the poor child turned to her new friend with 
joyful eagerness. 

Grace did not falter ; but she had one 
trial. Every night Captain Clifford said, 
smiling, — 

” Well, daughter, how comes on the study- 
ing ? Any nearer the prize ? ” 

And Grace had to answer, slowly, "O, 
pa, don’t go to expecting I’ll get it, please ! 
Mahla’s the one.” 

When she had said this, her father would 
turn again to his newspaper, looking slightly 
disappointed. Then Grace felt a pang of 
regret ; but it soon passed away, and nevei 
left a sting. 


70 


COUSIN GRACE. 


CHAPTER V. 

FORTUNES. 

All the school-girls were talking just now 
about a wonderful woman , who had suddenly 
dropped down, perhaps out of the moon — 
a woman who could tell what h^d happened, 
and what would happen, as easily as she 
could wink. 

"Why,” said the graduating class, talking 
two or three at once, " she can tell you when 
you were born, how your parents look, 
what’s your given name, and all about your 
friends, whether they’re light or dark com- 
plexion, and — ” 

"Well, there,” said Grace, contemptuously, 


FORTUNES. 


71 


* that's smart ! Does anybody want to hear 
it all over again, when they knew it before? 
I’d like her to tell something new.” 

"So she does,” cried the girls, with breath- 
less eagerness ; " she can foretell things, and 
they do come to pass, too, — things that make 
your hair stand on end.” 

" I wonder ! ” said timid Lucy Lane, shiver- 
ing, and looking behind her. 

" O, fie ! Lucy,” said Grace, patronizingly ; 
" don’t you be a bit afraid, dear ; it’s all a 
sham. I can foretell as well as Mrs. Gypsy. 
I’ll foretell what we’re going to have for din- 
ner — a dog in a blanket.” 

"There, now,” laughed Diadeinia; "I’ve 
heard of eating roasted horses, but I didn’t 
know it ever came to cats and dogs.” 

Grace explained that a dog in a blanket 
was a roly-poly pudding. 

"But about this gypsy,” continued Di, 


72 


COUSIN GRACE. 


"anybody ’(I think, to hear you, Grace Clif- 
ford, that you supposed we oelieved in her.” 

At this speech the girls all declared, by 
gestures and exclamations, that nothing 
could be more absurd than to suppose that 
they had any faith in such nonsense. What 
did they care about it? Only it was so 
queer ! True, they knew of girls who had 
been to see this strange being, — young 
Adies who never told a lie in their lives, — 
and these young ladies all " deposed ” and 
said that the gypsy was a perfect wonder ! 

Grace listened with curling lip to the 
strange stories which the princesses nar- 
rated. There was Panoria Swan, — the proud 
young lady who, the boys said, had swal- 
lowed a whalebone and couldn’t stoop, — . 
even Panoria Swan sailed down in all her 
majesty to this gypsy, who sent her home so 
terribly frightened that she ran every step 


FORTUNES. 


76 


of the way, and forgot to scowl for six hours. 
Then there was the large girl with the geo- 
graphical name, Missouri Arkansas Smith, 
who had found a pot of gold, or was going 
to ; and a man who had had a splendid future 
foretold, which had come to pass ; that is to 
say, all that had happened beforehand had 
come to pass, every speck of it. 

The arrival of this singular stranger was 
the most startling thing which had fallen to 
the notice of the Ruby Seal Society since 
its birth. For a day or two the usual game 
of skipping the rope was voted tedious, and 
the princesses formed a group by themselves, 
greatly fascinated by hearing and telling 
stories of this weird woman of the woods. 

How delightful if they could make up a 
party and go to consult her ! It would be 
an appalling thing to venture alone; bat 
there is strength in numbers. 


74 


COUSIN GRACE. 


"Now, Gracie Clifford, if you’ll only go 
ahead ! ” 

" O, yes, Gracie ; what a gay time we’ll 
have ! Not that we, any of us, believe such 
witch stories. Just for the frolic, } r ou know.” 

" But I have a perfect despise for fortune- 
tellers ; it’s not respectable ; it’s silly, and — 
I’d be ashamed.” 

Grace did not add what she reilly thought 
— " and I’m afraid it’s wicked.” 

" I’m right glad you feel so, Gracie,” said 
gentl Mahla Linek, laying her hand caress- 
ingly their queen’s shoulder. " I just know 
it’s n< right to go.” 

But in spite of her assumed indifference, 
Grace had as much curiosity as any of the 
others. True, she declared, over and over 
again, that she didn’t care about going within 
fifty miles of this gypsy ; that, let the crazy 
creature say what she might, it would surely 
turn out exactly the reverse. 


FORTUNES. 


75 


Still, after having cleared her conscience 
by all this preamble, she consented to go, 
"just to please, the girls.” They were all 
delighted ; for, in their opinion, Grace’s pres- 
ence gave an air of respectability to the 
enterprise. 

They decided that this was one of those 
affairs which could not be mentioned to any of 
their mothers. It was not probable that their 
mothers could be brought to understand the 
case ; so difficult is it for grown-up women to 
perceive that there is no harm in a little 
frolic ! Grace was very uneasy ; still she 
freely acknowledged, with the others, that the 
thing must be done by stealth, or not at all. 
The princesses shook hands in all solemnity, 
promising secrecy till death. 

They arranged, all but Mahla Linck, to 

x 

meet for a walk the next " evening,” which 
with New Englanders means "afternoon.* 


76 


COUSIN GRACE. 


Delay was dangerous, for the gypsy might 
not stay long in town. She lived oil the 
wing, and was no more to be depended upon 
than a butterfly. 

Saturday "evening” came, clear and cloud- 
less ; and at two o’clock the girls met by 
appointment. Did Grace Clifford feel no 
twinges of conscience when her kind mother 
packed a basket with dainties, and kissed her 
good by? Did she think the queen of the 
Ruby Seal had a right to keep such secrets 
from such a mother ? Ah, this was not the 
conduct one might expect from a little girl 
who reads two chapters in the Bible every 
day. It is to be feared, however, that Grace 
only tripped carelessly over her task, instead 
of studying the Best of Books with real 
attention. 

After much chatting and laughing, and 
losing their way a few times in the " greeu 


FORTUNES. 


77 


gloom of the woods,” the girls reached a 
settlement in the country called " Small’s 
Enlargement,” passed a romantic log church, 
and came in sight of the fortune-teller’s 
dwelling, an unpainted cottage snuggled in 
among gooseberry-bushes, tulip-trees, scrub- 
oaks, persimmon, and Judas-trees. The 
tenement was owned by Mr. Harrington, 
Isa’s father, but was so sadly out of repair 
that no respectable person would rent it ; and 
it was usually occupied only by rats, or for a 
short time in the summer by some wandering 
family. 

Grace pulled something which seemed to 
be the remains of a door-knob ; but if it was 
connected with a bell, the bell was certainly 
tongue-tied, for it would not ring. 

" Let’s walk right in,” said Grace, lifting 
the latch. Like many Western houses, this 
cottage had no front hall, and you stepped at 


COUSIN GRACE. 


IS 

once into the parlor. The girls were greeted 
by a dense cloud of smoke, which quite filled 
the room. Grace fancied for a moment that 
this strange woman had been invoking some 
sort of a spell with the aid of magic, and 
looked about her, half expecting to see 
"black spirits and white” floating in the air. 
But if spirits there were, they could not be 
discerned through the smoke, which was 
pouring out through the acorn-shaped stove 
in the corner. 

The occupant of the room did not come 
forward to greet her guests, but said in a low 
tone, as if muttering to herself, " Whatever 
is to be will be ! Can’t help your fate ! As 
well go set an army of grasshoppers to fight- 
ing against the United States army ! Yes, 
go set ’em to fighting, I tell you.” 

This singular speech startled everybody. 
Poor Lucy Lane trembled, and caught fast 


FORTUNES. 


79 


hold of Grace’s hand, while Grace, for her 
part, felt, as she had declared she should feel, 
ready to laugh, though partly from nervous- 
ness. 

The strange hostess glared at Grace in 
silence, but with much displeasure, and very 
likely from that moment marked out for her 
a dark future. 

This mysterious woman was dressed in a 
half barbaric costume. She had on a gar- 
ment which resembled a coat, only the 
sleeves were loose and flowing, like those 
of a lady’s dress. She wore Turkish drawers 
of green calico, gathered into a band at the 
ankle, and her feet blazed with red slippers, 
'brilliantly adorned with "gold spangles.’ 5 
Over her shoulders she now threw a loose 
robe, like a cloak, made of scarlet moreen, 
for all the world like a pulpit curtain, down 
which dangled two huge tassels. 


80 


COUSIN GRACE. 


By the time this robe of state had been 
carefully adjusted, the gypsy came forward 
and welcomed her visitors. Isa she patted 
on the shoulder with much cordiality, shook 
hands with Judith Pitcher and Lucy Lane, 
but passed by Grace with only a glance. 

The old crone’s face was as strange as her 
dress. Her eyes were intensely black and 
bright ; they seemed to have burned out the 
rest of her face, which was very thin and 
haggard. These wild eyes sank far into her 
head, "like birds’ nests under the eaves of a 
house.” To crown all, she wore a fierce 
turban of soiled white lace. Altogether, she 
was weird-looking enough to frighten a 
person of tolerably strong nerves. Well 
for the more timid of the little girls if they 
should escape from her with no worse effects 
than horrible dreams ! 

" Well, my pretty dears,” said she at last, 


FORTUNES. 


81 


’ f what can I do for you ? Whatever is to be 
will be ! We’re nothing but a handful of 
grasshoppers ! Do you dare to have me tear 
down the mountainious veil of futurity ? ” 

It seemed necessary to make some reply. 
" Yes,’m,” said two or three of the girls, 
in tremulous tones. 

" Please, may I raise the window, ma’am?” 
said Grace. The fortune-teller deigned no 
reply, but went on talking as if to herself : — 
" The proper and true way to cure smoke, 
is to start a roaring fire, then pour on salt 
and water, and the steam will choke out the 
smoke. There are,” continued she in the 
same tone, "some children of this genera- 
tion who think they know more than their 
betters ; but they never’ll set the river afire. 
Now, you mark my words, such knowing 
children never’ll set the river afire.” 

The smoke growing worse, Isabel pro- 


82 


COUSIN GRACE. 


posed that they should hear their fortunes 
out of doors. The gypsy readily consented, 
for from the first she had looked upon Isabel 
with a friendly eye. The truth was, she re- 
membered the little girl’s babyhood, and had 
often held her in her arms, though of this Isa 
knew nothing. 

Seated on a rude bench under the budding 
trees, the little girls and their dark hostess 
formed a picturesque group. All hearts beat 
high with awe and curiosity, as the gypsy 
drew out from the folds of her scarlet robe a 
pack of soiled cards, "shuffled” them with 
much deliberation, and passed them to Isa- 
bel, saying, " Tell me, young miss, shall I 
predicate your fortune by astrology, by 
cards, or by the lines on the palm of your 
hand?” 

Isa looked at the other girls, hoping for 
advice in this important matter. 


FORTUNES. 


83 


’'.What would you do, Grade?” 

* Suppose we each have it different ? ” re- 
plied Grace. " You take the cards, I’ll take 
the astrology, and some of the others can use 
the lines on their hands.” 

"Very well,” replied Isa, turning to the 
gypsy, " I reckon I’ll take the cards. Aren’t 
they just as good ? ” 

"First,” replied Mrs. Gypsy, with a solemn 
glance sky- ward, "first you may cross my 
palms with silver.” 

"We’ve nothing but scrip,” replied Grace, 
who was obliged to do the financial business 
for the whole party. 

" They said you asked six bits apiece for 
your fortunes, and we’ve brought it,” added 
she, putting into the woman’s hand three dol- 
lars and seventy-five cents in paper bills, the 
joint sums which the girls had brought -with 
them. They might have made a vastly better 


84 


COUSIN GRACE. 


use of their money by throwing it into tne 
acorn-shaped stove for kindling. Grace’s 
" six hits ” was all she had left of her month* 
ly allowance, and this she had been setting 
aside for the soldiers in the hospital ; but 
the soldiers could wait a while for their cur- 
rant jelly, whereas it is not every day one 
can have one’s fortune told by a black- 
browed gypsy, with a turban on her head. 

The woman pretended to be surprised at 
the scarcity of silver, and the girls trembled 
lest she should, even now, send them off 
with no fortunes, just when they were on 
tiptoe with awe and curiosity. 


MISFORTUNES. 


«3 


CHAPTER VI. 

MISFORTUNES. 

But to the immense relief o) the girls, 
the gypsy at last consented, most kindly, to 
accept the money, and after the cards had 
been "cut,” proceeded to assort them, and 
read from their dirty faces Isabel’s future 
destiny. " Dark complect ?” said she, look- 
ing up at Isa. " Yes, yes, coal-black hair, 
or will be, and a pair of eyes ! There’s two 
kinds of eyes in this world, little miss : one’s 
the oily black eye, and the other’s the snap- 
ping black eye. Yours is the snapping black 
eye. ’Twill break the hearts, my dear — • 
break the hearts,” repeated Mrs. Gypsy, 


86 


COUSIN GRACE. 


approvingly. " Here you are, the queen ol 
spades, the queen of beauty, and behind you 
there I see trouble.” 

The gypsy scanned the cards closely. 

"Ah, I know it all, now. It’s a child, a 
girl, dead since way back. Your sister : 
you were named for her.” 

The girls were dumb with surprise, and 
gazed at one another with parted lips. They 
had all heard of "the other Isa,” and had 
seen her little head-stone in the graveyard. 

"You have one brother,” continued the 
gypsy ; " light hair ; name begins with a T.” 

"Thomas,” cried the girls in a breath. 

" Where could she have heard of Tommy ? ” 
cried Grace. 

"Where, to be sure, miss?” was the tart 
reply. " Never heard of him till he looked 
up at me out of the cards.” 

By this time five pairs of eyes had grown 


MISFORTUNES. 


8i 

very large, and five little hearts were throb* 
bing high with awe and curiosity. How 
could these children know that the gypsy 
was acquainted with the history of her land- 
lord’s family? Plow were they to imagine 
that she purposely told Isa’s fortune first in 
order to excite their wonder? 

”1 see here,” said the gypsy, fumbling at 
the cards mysteriously, as if she could pierce 
quite through them with her sharp eyes, " I 
see a present for you : it’s worth a power 
of money. I see a journey for you : it’s 
across the waters. Here is a great noble- 
man ; and 0, how rich ! He rolls in gold ! 
He’ll set great store by you, miss, and 
when you grow up you’ll marry him, and 
you’ll roll in gold, too.” 

Isa smiled ; and it is worthy of notice that 
she did not wonder at all at this future hus- 
band, though, according to her promise to 


88 


COUSIN GRACE. 


the Ruby Seal Society, she could no more 
think of marrying than a veiled nun. 

" Such a lady as you’ll be. You know of 
girls now that are pretty thin with you. You 
wish yourself as rich and grand. But never 
mind. The day’ll come when they’ll be glad 
of a smile from you.” 

The wicked woman continued this harangue 
for some time, painting in gorgeous colors 
the splendor which was to shine upon the 
happy Isa one of these days ; while Isa sat 
listening to the romance in a tumult of de- 
light. ” What girls were those who felt 
themselves better? That must mean Grace 
Clifford, if anybody. She would come 
humbly to Isa Harrington, begging for a 
smile. Cassy Hallock would then have 
sunk into a nobody. O, how exquisite ! 
Grace was cool and indifferent now — was 
she ? Ah, well ! the tables were about to be 


MISFORTUNES. 


8S 


turned, and then maybe somebody else would 
know how to be cool and indifferent too.” 

"O, Isa,” laughed Grace, "think of the 
lovely dresses you’ll wear ! Please give me 
one, Isa. I hope you’ll not forget your old 
friends.” 

The gypsy scowled, but was keen to take 
observations. 

"I reckon I’ll know who are my real 
friends better than some people do,” replied 
Isa, meaningly. " I’ll have so many friends 
that I just hope I’ll not have to pick out the 
meanest of the whole to go with ; I just hope 
I’ll not be such a stupid as that', and then feel 
cross when anybody says she isn’t perfect.” 

Grace smiled, and so did the other girls. 
It was plain that Isa was so dazzled as 
to come very near fancying herself a great 
lady already. The glances which passed 
between the girls did not escape the sharp 
eyes of the gypsy. 


90 


COUSIN GRACE. 


* Ah, ha ! I see how it is. Somebody jeah 
Dus ! I’ll soon study it out.” 

Next came Diademia’s turn, and she chose 
to have her fortune read by the zigzag lines 
on the palm of her hand. The woman de- 
clared that these lines were curved in just 
the right way on the little brown hand of 
Diadem ia, who was therefore sure to live in 
peace and plenty, and to receive a large 
legacy in five years. So it was with all. 
The gypsy fairly buried them under heaps 
of gold and precious stones, till it came to 
poor Grace Clifford. She bent her black 
brows, and looked upon this last candidate 
with a frown, pausing some time before she 
spoke. Grace did not understand this omi- 
nous scowl, but looked into the woman’s face 
with a bright smile of anticipation. 

" I’d like my fortune told by astrology, 
please, madam. That’s the stars — isn’t it? * 


MISFORTUNES. 


91 


" First give me your hand, miss ; not that 
• — the left one, like the others did. Alas ! ” 
sighed the artful woman, poring over the 
soft little palm, " life-line short and crossed, 
matrimony-line and line of riches cut clean 
off! I daresn’t to lift the tempestuous veil 
of fortune. Black, mighty black ! ” 

Grace might have answered, "Very well, 
madam ; then pray don’t take the trouble to 
do it, but give me back my 'six bits,’ and I’ll 
buy that jelly for the soldiers.” But Grace 
was by far too much interested ; she could 
not go away now without hearing her for- 
tune, however dark it might prove. 

"Please go on, ma’am,” said she, with a 
brave smile, though her heart quaked for fear. 

" What day and year was you born, 
miss ? ” 

” September 3d, 1851.” 

" Then you are under the influence of the 


92 


COUSIN GRACE. 


planet Marcury” said the gypsy, after an 
intense study of the sky, during which she 
looked as wise as an astronomer calculating 
an eclipse. " Marcury, sorry to say. You 
have friends who have been — - ahem ! — who 
will go to the war.” Here the gypsy paused 
and gazed at the heavens again, lost in thought. 

" She means your pa,” whispered Lucy, 
"when you supposed he was dead, and he 
wasn’t.” 

" As I was saying, you have a very dear re- 
lation who was killed, or almost killed, in the 
wars,” continued the gypsy, starting up from 
her reverie, and beginning where she had 
left off, without appearing to pay the slight- 
est attention to Lucy’s whisper. " I had to 
study a while to find out if he died; but the 
truth is, he’s alive now — your father, I mean.” 

If possible the girls were more amazed • 
than ever. What didn’t the gypsy know? 
Wasn’t it awful? 


MISFORTUNES. 


93 


"Yes, nt the time you was born, poor 
thing ! the planets Marcury and Haskell were 
disjunctive. Whatever is to be will be, and 
you’ll see trouble. You have a dear friend : 
you set store by her.” 

Here the gypsy perceived that she had 
made another happy hit, for Grace looked 
surprised again. 

" This friend pretends to have a heart for 
you ; you think she’s true ; but mark my 
words,” — and the prophetess dropped her 
monotonous voice to a hoarse whisper ; 
" mark my words : you never were more mis- 
taken in your life.” 

Here Isa’s face took on an expression of 
pleasure, and she touched Grace’s elbow, 
whispering, "Didn’t I tell you so? There 
now ! ” 

Grace grew an inch taller ; would not look 
at Isa, but tossed a reply to her over her 
shoulder : — 


94 


COUSIN GRACE. 


" Please don’t say any more, Isa. The 
woman may have told the other things right, 
but she’s made a mistake about Cassy Hal- 
lock.” 

" Cassy I Ialloek ! ah, that’s the name,” 
spoke up the gypsy. " What do you say 
about mistakes? I don’t make mistakes ! I 
tell you that smooth fiiend of yours is a snake 
in the grass. Flies buzz, girls talk. Don’t 
trust that girl. Trouble’s coming thick as 
sand.” 

The girls cast pitying glances upon Grace, 
as if they already saw her the victim of 
sorrow. 

" Needn’t curl your lip ; you are soon to 
have a fever and lose all your pretty hair. 
When you're twelve and some odd, your 
father’ll die, and the next year your mother’ll 
die too. .You’re one of them that considers 
every rain-storm nothing but a clearing-off 


MISFORTUNES. 


95 


shower ; but you’ll find oue storm that won’t 
clear off. You’ll near about come nigh starv- 
ing, miss. It’s an awful way to die ; but 
you won’t die so. You’ll be bit by a rattle- 
snake, and won’t live a day after you’re six- 
teen year old.” 

Grace tried to laugh. " Come, girls,” said 
she, "let’s go.” 

" You’re an awful unlucky child,” cried the 
gypsy, pointing her finger at Grace, who did 
not look quite humble enough yet. " You’re 
very peart now ; but troub^’~ coming: now 
you mark my words.” 

So saying, the crazy woman arose to entei 
the house ; but as she saw the smoke still 
clouding the air, a new freak seized hei 
bewildered brain. She quite forgot hei 
character of fortune-teller, and shouted 
aloud, "I am the voicj cf one crying in the 
wilderness. Tell me one thing before I 


COUSIN GRACE. 


96 

leave you, little army of grassnoppers : \,hat 
did John Baptist do with the locusts ? Did 
tie eat ’em raw, or did he smoke and roast 
’em?” 

Then with " tinsel-slippered ” feet, the 
gypsy entered the house, and closed the 
door. The girls heard a shout of wild laugh- 
ter. Could it be from the gypsy? They 
started with one accord, and ran till they 
were out of breath. 

"Where are the baskets with our picnic?” 
cried Diademia, suddenly pausing. 

" Under one of the ’simmon-trees,” replied 
Lucy Lane, who was a natural housekeeper, 
and had carefully collected the scattered 
baskets, and put them together in what she 
considered a safe place. 

Now, who would dare go for them? The 
girls were hungry, but they were also in a 
panic. Who could it be that had laughed 


MISF >RTUNES. 


97 


so wildly? How did they know that the 
strange creature might not spring out upon 
them, and drag them into her den? Grace 
at last summoned courage, and the girls 
followed her, hoping tnat nothing dreadful 
could happen to any one but Grace, after 
such excellent fortunes. 

They went to the persimmon-trees, but 
found no baskets. Lucy, usually timid and 
irresolute, was firm enough in this case. 
She had placed the baskets under a certain 
tree ; but they were not there now, neither 
could they be found. 

" Magic ! ” murmured Di. 

** I wonder,” said Grace, " if they’ve been 
magicked off? What if 1 go ask our gypsy ?” 

She stepped cautiously along towards the 
house. 

" Gracie Clifford, you don’t dare.” 

" How do you know that, Isa ? ” 


98 


COUSIN GRACE. 


** Don’t go,” whispered the girls, crouching 
together behind the trees. They were di- 
vided in their minds between superstitious 
terror and sharp hunger. 

Grace’s eyes were flashing with strong 
excitement. She was as much frightened as 
any of the others ; but a spirit of desperation - 
had seized her, and she walked up to the 
house and entered it in spite of the feeble 
remonstrances of the girls. 

She did not come out again for several 
minutes, and by that time her companions 
were alarmed. Not that they really believed 
the "fortune-woman” was an ogress, who ate 
children ; but they did not know clearly 
what they did believe, and herein was the 
chief perplexity. If the gypsy had only 
been like other human beings ! But that 
she certainly w’as not. 

Grace came out of the cottage at last. 


MISFORTUNES. 91; 

"Did you find her?” cried the girls. 

"Yes, hut not the baskets. Where, think, 
she was? Sitting on the stove, mutter- 
ing over some magic to stop the smoke 
There was her red robe;, or whatever it is, 
on the floor, with something under it. I 
went lip to her, and said I, 'Do you know, 
ma’am, where our baskets are?’ — I reckon 
she doesn’t like rnc. Why, girls, she glared 
at me like a wild tiger, and told me if I 
touched a hem of that red thing I’d be sorry, 
for she was the voice of one crying in the 
wilderness, and I don’t know what ail.” 

"O, fie ! I wouldn’t have minded that,” said 
Di. "Why didn’t you go right along and 
take up the cloak? I’d have done it in a 
twinkling.” 

"Then you may go do it, Di,” retorted 
Grace, who thought such a scornful remark 
was but a poor return for her own valiant com 

? 

0 i 
> ) » 

> > 

> > > 


>1 > 


100 


COUSIN GRACE. 


duct. Di was dumb. "But,” continued 
Grace, "I just feel as if those baskets were 
under that cloak ; I do so.” 

" If she cats my cookies,” said Isa, " I hope 
they’ll choke her.” 

"There now, Gracie, what shall we do?” 
sighed Lucy Lane, trying to conceal her 
tears. " I brought three custards, and a silver 
teaspoon, and six slices of pound-cake ; and 
Jane covered them up with one of ma’s nico 
napkins. O, dear, dear, dear ! ” 

"My basket,” said Judith Pitcher, " was 
ma’s sweet little French bird’s-nest, they call 
it, with a bird at each end for a handle. I’d 
starve to death and never mind it ; but it’s 
that basket that breaks my heart.” 

"Girls, I’m going home to tell my pa to 
get a search-warrant, and a policeman, and r 
protest; see if I don’t, ’ : cried Diademia, 
half frantic. 


MISFORTUNES. 


10 \ 


" Di Jones, if you do,” interposed Isa, "if 
you let on one word about this fix, you’ll be 
turned straight out of our society. Didn’t 
we promise secrecy till death ? ” 

"Hush!” said Grace, soothingly; "let’s, 
hunt the baskets a little longer.” 

Accordingly they searched in all directions 
as long as they dared, then set their faces 
towards home, tired and discouraged. Lucy 
Lane stealthily wiped a few tears from her 
eyes. 

"Pretty doings ! ” whispered Di, confiden- 
tially. " Grade has got us into a curious fix/' 
Lucy wondered how Grace could be 
blamed, but had not the courage to take her 
part ; so she merely gave a little groan, which 
Di understood to mean, "Yes, dear ; just so/ 
Lucy was what Grace Clifford called u 
"yes-yes sort of girl ; ” she agreed with every- 
body. 


102 


COUSIN GRACE. 


"You see now, Lucy, if Grace had said, up 
and down, she wouldn’t go to see this horrid 
old witch, why, we would not have stirred a 
step. Grace is our queen ; oughtn’t she to 
keep us out of mischief, pray?” 

"Yes,” said Lucy, 'I think so too. — O, 
my silver teaspoon ! ” 

Grace and Isa were also talkirg in confi- 
dence. In spite of the lost baskets Isa 
* walked on thrones.” 

"So queer, Gracie, what she said about 
Cassy Hallock ! ” 

" O, Isa, 1 believe she’s the Witch of En- 
dor.” 

"Now, Grace Clifford, I’ll tell you how 
Cassy slanders you, only you can’t make me 
say where I heard it. A forward little miss, 
she says, you are, always speaking up when 
you aren’t spoken to. Mighty grand you 
feel. Right vain of your hair, she says ; but 
it’s not auburn — it’s fire-red.” 


MISFORTUNES. 


m 


"Why, Isa Harrington,” cried Grace, 
breathless with surprise, "Panoria Swan has 
fire-red hair. I’ll leave it to you — does it 
look a speck like mine ? ” 

" Dear me, no, indeed, Gracie. Nobody 
ever dreamed of such an idea but just Cassy. 
But that’s not all, nor half. She says her 
ma don’t like her to go with you so much. 
There, that’s all I’ll tell.” 

"Isa Harrington, I can’t believe one word 
of that last part,” said Grace, indignantly ; 
"it’s a mistake, and you may take it back.” 

"I can’t take back the sober, solemn, 
honest truth,” returned Isa, firmly. 

" Seems to me Cassy’s changed amazingly, 
then,” said Grace, with a quivering voice. 

"Hasn’t she seemed rather odder since 
the oyster party, Gracie? I mean Mrs. 
Hallock ? ” 

"Why, no,” said Grace, hesitating; "no, 


COUSIN GRACE. 


194 

indeed ! Let me see : once or twice she 
wouldn’t let Cassy go home with me farther 
than the acorn-tree ; but that was because 
she must have her mind the baby. — Here we 
are at home.” 

Grace was not ready to believe that her 
friend and her friend’s mother were both so 
treacherous ; still, she entered the house in 
a state of much perplexity. 


THE REGARD-RING. 


105 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE REGARD-RING. 

Mrs. Clifford wondered why her daugh- 
ter should return from a picnic so eager for 
supper. 

" Why, ma, we lost every single thing we 
carried to eat.” 

" Lost it ! What, not all your live bas- 
kets?” 

"Yes, ma,” replied Grace, uneasily ; "that’s 
the solemn truth.” 

Mrs. Clifford was naturally surprised. 

" But, ma, it’s a secret. Don’t ask me to 
break my promise, please. Some time, may 
be, I’ll tell you. I will when I can.” 


106 


COUSIN GRACE. 


At the tea-table, Horace’s curiosity wa\ 
very active; He wanted to know where tho 
girls spread out their picnic, what games 
they played, and would have gone on with 
his trying questions if Mrs. Clifford had not 
kindly come to her daughter’s relief, and 
turned the hoy’s attention to something else 
Grace was grateful to her mother, but ? 
sense of guilt weighed heavily on her mind. 
She had sunk very low in her own esteem, 
and envied little Horace the innocent frank- 
ness with which he dared look people in the 
face. 

Added to these twinges of conscience, 
Grace was in a state of wretched doubt re- 
garding Cassy. AVhat charm would be left 
in this bleak world, she thought, if this only 
friend should prove false ! 

Grace’s sleep was haunted that night by 
witches and goblins. She felt the fcvei 


THE TtEflATm-TCTNG. 


107 


which had been predicted " coming to pass ” 
in her burning veins, and was greatly re- 
lieved next morning when she awoke as 
well as usual. 

But the terrors of witchcraft still haunted 
her. In a few days another mysterious 
event took place. Grace lost her regard- 
ring. When she came from school one even- 
ing she was sure she had it on her finger. 
It must be lost in the house. All possible 
and impossible places were searched. So 
strange that Cassy’s ring should disappear ! 
Had it melted away like Cassy’s friendship ? 

At last Grace settled down to the con- 
viction that Phebe, the little nurse, had 
stolen it. " What else could have gone with 
it, unless that wild woman had magicked it 
away? ” 

Flying into the nursery, she met Phebe 
Walking the floor with little Katie, who was 


208 


COUSIN GRACE. 


wailing with the ache of some invisible little 
teeth. 

"Black people have light fingers, every- 
body knows,” thought Grace, by way of 
fortifying herself. 

" Phebe Dolan, my beautiful regard-ring 
is gone — gone ; and who do you suppose 
took it, Phebe Dolau ? You did ! ” 

Phebe’s eyes rolled like wheels. In her 
surprise, she almost dropped the baby. 

"Why, now, I done declar, Miss Grace, 
I never took it — never seen it ; much as 
ever I knowed you had a ring.” 

"O, Phebe Dolan, you’re trembling this 
minute. What could you want of my ring, 
you little wretch?” 

" I declar for’t, Miss Grace, I nope to 
die fust ! ” 

"No, you mustn’t hope to die, Phebe : 
you’re too wicked to die ! ” 


THE REGARD-RING. 


109 


* Then I never, never, in all my born days 
in this world, and never did, and never 
will,” moaned Phebe, looking about for a 
handkerchief. 

It was the first time Grace had spoken 
sharply to her. She had been in Mrs. Clif- 
ford’s family for two years, and in that time 
her excellent mistress had taught her much 
in regard to her duty ; so, if Phebe had now 
broken the eighth commandment, it could 
not have been a sin of ignorance. 

The moment Grace’s whirlwind of anger 
was over, she regretted her hasty words to 
the desolate little orphan. " Everything has 
gone wroug since Cassy went away,” mused 
Grace. "I wonder what I’ll do or say 
next? But there, Phebe needn’t steal, I 
declare ! It’s good enough for her, if she 
did ; and where’s my ring if she didn’t ? ” 

Grace would as soon have suspected one 
of Horace’s pet doves, as Barbara Kinckle- 


COUSIN GRACE. 


11a 

Up to this time the little girls had not 
found their baskets. But one noon, Cap« 
tain Clifford came home with a strange 
account of a crazy woman who had escaped 
from an almshouse in an adjoining county. 
She had been wandering about the woods 
for weeks, fancying herself a prophetess, and 
sometimes crying out to passers-by, "I am 
the voice of one crying in the wilderness ; 
prepare ye the way.” She had entered a 
country church and cut down one half of a 
pulpit curtain for a cloak. She had just 
been found now at Small’s Enlargement, and 
had become so raving that she was carried 
away in a strait jacket. 

” They say,” said Captain Clifford, helping 
himself to venison, " she has been telling 
fortunes with a pack of dirty cards. I must 
confess I was surprised to hear that our 
Grace had been one of the rabble to visit 
her, Maria.” 


THE REGARD-RING. 


Ill 


Mrs. Clifford looked at her husband in 
surprise. " Our Grace ? ” 

"Yes, our Grace. It seems to be new to 
you. Mr. Harrington told me to-day that 
she was ringleader of a party of little girls 
who went out to Small’s Enlargement on a 
picnic excursion. The woman stole their 
baskets, and said such hobgoblin things 
that his Isabel has been nearly frantic ever 
since.” 

" My daughter ! ” said Mrs. Clifford, in a 
sorrowful voice. 

"O, ma, I’ve wanted every hour and min- 
ute to tell you, and pa too ; but I promised 
not to ! ” 

" Shame, shame ! ” cried Horace, pointing 
his index finger at his sister; "before I’d 
sneak off to a gypsy that way ! ” 

"That will do, my son,” remarked Cap. 
tain Clifford. "You may finish your din- 


no** 


112 


COUSIN GRACE. 


"O, pa,” said Grace, pushing back het 
chair, and burying her face in her handker- 
chief, " we all promised not to tell, you know, 
and 1 wouldn’t, not for my right hand ; and 
here’s Isa, pa, she’s gone and broken her 
word.” 

" Wrong, I grant,” replied Captain Clif- 
ford, with a provoking smile ; ” there should 
be honor even among thieves.” 

Grace winced at this proverb. The sub- 
ject was now dropped, for what Mrs. Clif- 
ford said to her daughter she preferred to 
say to her alone. 


Cassy Hallock came home. Her father, 
mother, and brother Johnny were at the 
wharf to meet her. 

” Where’s Grade?” was her first saluta- 
tion, after she had quietly kissed her rela- 
tives. 


THE REGARD-RING. 


113 


" Why, my dear, I’ve hardly seen Grace 
since you went away,” said Mrs. Hallock. 

" Goes with Isa Harrington nowadays,” 
remarked brother J ohn, thrusting his thumbs 
into his vest pockets: "just the way with 
girls. It’s all their wonderful friendships 
amount to.” 

" O, Johnny ! ” replied Cassy, faintly ; and 
then she walked on in silence, for Cassy 
Hallock was not a little girl who wore her 
heart on her sleeve ; it was kept out of sight, 
and usually did its aching in secret. 

The next day was Saturday ; but Grace 
did not come to see Cassy, who was quite 
wretched, but too proud to let any one know 
it. At last, a happy thought struck her. 

w Ma, mayn't I go round to see Gracie, 
and carry a bottle of your cream beer? I 
reckon she doesn’t know I’m home again.” 

" Strange,” thought Cassy, as she drew 
8 


114 


COUSIN GRACE. 


near her friend’s house, and paused to rest. 

" Strange Johnny should say Grace has 
changed ! Why, I’ve only been gone, two 
months, and folks don’t change in two 
months.” 

Yet she felt strangely agitated as she 
entered the yard. Gracie must know she 
was home again ; she almost wished she had 
waited to see if she would call. 

" I declare, if there isn’t Cassy Hallock 
coming, bless her heart. O, dear me, no, 
the hypocrite ! ” said Grace, looking out of 
her chamber window. " I reckon she hasn’t 
seen me ; I’ll run and hide. She needn’t 
come here and pretend to be friends ! ” 

Grace stole into the library, and locked 
the door. 

w Miss Gracie,” cried the sorrowful voice 
of black Phebe. No answer. At last, Phebe 
came to the library door and rattled it. 


THE REGARD-RING. 


♦ U5 

Grace whispered through the key-hole, — 

" Ask the person into the parlor, Phebe, 
and say I’ll be down very soon.” 

The person ! 

"O, won’t I be dignified?” thought Miss 
Grace, walking the floor with a queen-like 
tread. But the affection of years was tug- 
ging at her heart-strings. 

"I’ll not cry.” She flung off the bright 
drop which fell on her hand. "I’ll not bo 
caught crying, when anybody I’ve loved as 
I did that girl — ” 

Grace hastened down stairs, and " turned 
her tears to sparks of fire.” 

"How d’ye, Miss Cassy?” 

Her old friend stood looking out of a 
window, her back towards the door. She 
felt the chill in Grace’s voice, and was frozen 
stiff’ in a minute. 

"How d’ye, Miss Grace?” without mov^ 
mg her head. 


COUSIN GRACE. 


116 „ 

" Pleasant day. Please be seated, Misa 
Cassy.” 

" Thank you, Miss Grace ; I must be 
going.” 

Cassy moved forward. The sun shone 
straight into her honest face. Grace saw 
its expression of astonishment, mingled with 
pride and grief. 

" Cassy Hallock, don’t go yet.” 

" Thank you, Grace Clifford ; can’t stop — 
only came to bring your ma some beer. In 
the music-room, on the piano.” 

" Cassy Hallock, what’s the matter with 
you?” 

"Grade Clifford, what’s the matter with 
rou ? ” 

"You’ve been talking about me, Cassy,” 
Grace burst forth, impetuously. "You’ve 
slandered me worse than I can bear. You 
think I’m proud and forward. Your ma 


THE REGARD-RING. 


117 


don’t like us to be friends. You say my 
hair is fire-red. 0, Cassy Hallock ! ” 

Cassy’s eyes expanded. " Who said that ? " 
"Isa Harrington.” 

" The biggest lie that ever was told ! ” 

" O, Cassy Hallock : then Hisn’t true ! ” 
"True, Gracie Clifiord ! and you my best 
friend ! ” 

"Are you right sure you never said so, 
Cassy ? ” 

"There, that’s enough, Gracie Clifford. 
I’ll not deny it again. If you believe Isa, 
and won’t believe me, it’s just as well. Good 
by.” And Cassy moved to the door with 
"majestical high scorn.” 

"Cassy Hallock,” cried Grace, throwing 
her arms about her friend’s neck, " you’re not 
going one step. I don’t believe a word of 
that lie, and never did ! ” 

Cassy allowed herself to be detained, but 
still held the door-knob in her hand. 


118 


COUSIN GRACE. 


"HI tell you what it is, Gracie Clifford. 
I’ll not say how much I think of you, because 
you know ; but if you can’t trust me, there’s 
the end of it.” 

"0,1 can trust you, I do trust you, Cassy. 
You’re one of the salts of the earth — salt , I 
mean.” 

" A small pinch,” suggested Cassy, almost 
smiling. 

"O, Cassy, there’s nobody in this world 
so splendid as you are ! ” 

But Cassy’s indignation was not quite 
appeased. " Where’s your ring, Gracie ? ” 

"Lost. O, you don’t know howl feel 
about that. I’m afraid our Phebe stole it.” 

" Glad of it.” 

" Why, Cassy, you’re crazy ! That regard- 
ring, dear, that your ma gave you, and you 
gave me for my emerald, down by the acorn- 
tree ! Why, Cassy 1 ” 


THE REGARD-RING. 


119 


" I said I was glad,” replied Cassy, in a 
softer tone. " I mean glad you didn’t take 
off the ring and^go hide it. I supposed you 
did, just to let me see you didn’t care for 
me any more.” 

A complete revulsion of feeling had come 
over Grace : she laughed and cried in a 
breath. 

" O, you old Cassy ! to think I ever 
could—” 

" There,” said her friend, placidly, ” let it 
all go.” 

" But I can’t let it go ; it’s a downright 
wicked shame. Now, Cassy, I ask you if 
we ought to allow such a girl as Isa in our 
R. S. S.?” 

" Not if I was queen, we wouldn’t,” was 
the decided answer. 

Now that the reconciliation was complete, 
Cassy declared she had a world to say, and 


120 


COUSIN GRACE. 


Grace replied that she had " a hemisphere ta 
say, herself.” Then she told the story of 
the gypsy, and made confession that her 
dismal fortune had kept her awake "night 
after night.” 

" Humph ! ” said Cassy ; " nothing evei 
keeps me awake ! Thunder can’t, nor can-, 
nons ; and I’m sure that crazy old woman 
couldn’t. What about the prize, Gracie?” 

"O, I don’t know, Cassy; I’ve taken 
Mahla into Square Root.” 

"Why, Gracie, what made you? You 
won’t get that splendid present from your 
pa!” 

" O, Cassy,” sighed Grace, " I thought I’d 
be good, just once, and do as the Bible said, 
and see how it would seem.” 

" The Bible says so many things ! ” said 
Cassy, thoughtfully. 

"Yes, Cassy; but I mean the Goldet 


THE REGARD-RING . 


121 


Rule. Why, I never mistrusted that rule 
was so beautiful. It just makes me love 
Mahla dearly.” 

Cassy’s brown eyes kindled with sympathy ^ 
but she exclaimed, suddenly, — 

" Come, let’s go in the kitchen and talk 
German with Barby.” 

Horace sat by the white table, sighing 
over his Geography. 

Robert came in, looking mischievous. 
"What say to a story, girls?” said he, 
glancing at Grace. "I’ll begin with a land- 
scape, book-fashion : — 

" Twas a lovely evening in May. The 
aged stars were twinkling as good as new ; 
the moon was 'resting her chin’ against a 
cloud : the serene heavens — ” 

" Stop,” cried Horace ; ** that’s not a land- 
scape : it’s a skyscape.” 

" What’s that you say ? You’ve interrupted 
me, and now I’ll have to begin again : — 


122 


COUSIN GRACE. 


w The new moon was shaking down her 
silver hair most mournfully, or, in other 
words, she looked at a distance like a slice 
of green cheese. I had been giving a few 
elegant touches to the flower-beds, pulling 
out the weeds, pig and chick, you know, 
and — well, suffice it to say, I wended my 
way across a verdant lawn, not twenty miles 
from here. I went into a house. It was all 
papered and pictured. The master of the 
house offered me no seat, for he was not at 
home ; but I helped myself to a sort of 
feather-bed chair near a window. I took 
my handkerchief out of my pocket in this 
way ; a key came out with it, as you see 
now, and dropped into the chair. It slipped 
between the stuffed cushion and the back of 
the chair. I put in my thumb, and drew 
out — ” 


"A plum,” suggested Horace. 



BcrthuG* Dav\dson'. c ^ c J 


i 


“My Ring ! ” cried Grace 


Page 123, 




THE REGARD-KING. 


123 


"The key.” 

The children looked as if they had been 
trifled with. 

"But the key was not all. To my sur- 
prise I also drew out what you now see me 
holding up to view.” 

" My ring ! ” cried Grace, darting forward. 
" O, Robin, where did you find it? ” 

" Where I told you : in the Elizabeth chair 
in the parlor.” 

Grace’s first act was to clap her hands ; 
her next, to rush out, calling for Phebe, who 
was in her own room, having a good ciy. 
The child appeared at the head of the back 
stairs, and answered, in a subdued and husky 
voice, "What is’t you want, Miss Gracie?” 

"I want you, you poor little dear,” cried 
Grace, flying up the stairs, and hugging the 
disconsolate Phebe, whose wits were scat- 
tered to the four winds with surprise. " I’ve 


124 


COUSIN GEACE. 


found my ring — my regard-ring, you forlorn 
little thing. Robin picked it out of the 
Elizabeth chair ; and if you don’t forgive 
me, I’ll bite my tongue right out.” 

"O, I’ve done forgive you, Miss Grace, 
if you’ll forgive me too,” sobbed poor Phebe, 
who had a confused idea that she must be 
somehow to blame for crying so hard. She 
had for two days been in the depths of 
despair ; and now, this sudden turn of the 
wheel of fortune made her fairly dizzy with 
delight. Many were the choice tidbits which 
Phebe found beside her plate after this, and 
many were the snips of bright ribbon or 
calico which were given to her to put away 
among her treasures. If Grace had forgot- 
ten that " charity thinketh no evil,” and had 
spoken rashly, she surely did all she could 
now to atone for her fault. 


PRUDY PAULIN • 


*2$ 


CHAPTER YIII 

PRUDY PARLIN. 

Isa Harrington’s surprise was great when 
she saw all her artful plans overthrown, am? 
Grace and Cassy the same " cup and saucer *' 
as ever. 

"O, Gracie,” said she, "you don’t love Isa 
any more, now Cassy has come home.” 

Grace drew coldly away. "You tried to 
turn me against my best friend, Isa.” 

" O, Gracie, I never ! I only told what I 
heard, and Lucy Lane was the one that said 
it. You may ask her” 

Lucy was as harmless a fly as ever got 
caught in a spider’s web. Isa thought she 


1ZG 


COUSIN GRACE. 


could manage her finely. So the moment 
she had done talking with Grace, she made 
Lucy tease Miss Allen to let them both 
go into the recitation-room to study their 
lessons. 

"We’ll promise, solemnly, we won’t say 
a word only grammar,” said Isa, earnestly. 
" Can’t you trust us ?” 

The teacher hesitated, looked at timid 
little Lucy, and said, "Yes. But if you 
break your word, girls, remember, ’tis the 
last time you’ll ever go in there to study.” 

Isa had no intention of keeping her word. 
She wanted to have Lucy to herself for the 
purpose of " managing ” her. 

For a while the girls studied in silence, 
their heads close together, and covered by a 
shawl. 

" O, Lucy,” said Isa, suddenly, " I’ve a 
compliment for you.” 


PRUDY PARLIN. 


127 


Lucy put her finger on her lip. 

"Dear me, Lucy, didn’t I speak good 
grammar ? That’s all the promise I made — 
that I wouldn’t say anything but grammar ; 
and I won’t, unless I make a mistake. A 
certain person said you had lovely hair. Got 
a compliment for mo ? ” 

"Why, yes,” said Lucy, innocently; "I 
heard a lady say you might be a right good 
little girl perhaps, but you’re rather homely.” 
Isa bit her lip. 

"It Avas Cassy Ilallock that told yours, 
Lucy. By the way, did you ever hear her 
say Gracie’s hair is fire-red ? ” 

"Why, Isa, no, indeed ! ” 

"Didn’t? Why, that’s nothing to the 
way she’s slandered her ; and Grace her 
best friend, too.” 

Lucy Avas horrified. 

"Do you remember Avhen you, and I, and 


128 


COUSIN GRACE. 


Cassy staid, ever so long ago, to scrub our 
desks? Well, don’t you know how Cassy 
spoke of Mrs. Clifford’s oyster party? ” 

"Yes, I do. She said Grace appeared 
like a lady.” 

" There, Lucy Lane, is that the way you 
Gear? Didn’t understand it, did you, any 
more than a baby? She was hinting that 
Grace talked like old folks — very pert and 
bold.” 

"O, was she?” 

"Of course she was, Lucy. Can’t you see 
through a mill-stone, child? I wouldn’t 
want any one to hint about mo the way 
Cassy does about Grace.” 

"Nor I wouldn’t, either,” echoed Lucy. 

" Didn’t you think, Lucy, by what Cassy 
said, that her ma wanted tv) break up the 
friendship? You told me at the time that 
you thought so, now certainly.” 


PRUDY PARLIN. 


129 


* O, what a story ! ” Lucy spoke very 
loud in her surprise. 

"Very well,” said Isa, adjusting the shawl, 
"you’ve forgotten, perhaps. Your memory 
is about as long as my little finger, Lucy. 
But no matter ; I know what Cassy meant 
if you didn’t. Reckon I’ve got eyes in my 
head.” 

"Well, I knew what she meant, too, I 
suppose, at the time of it,” said soft-voiced 
Lucy, anxious to prove that she had eyes in 
her head, and could see through a mill-stone. 
Foolish fly ! When a cunning spider said, 
"Will you walk into my parlor?” Lucy 
always walked right in. 

" I hate Cassy Hallock,” cried Isa, uncon- 
sciously raising her voice very high : "I just 
hate her. She’s no business to make believe 
friends with Grade. Let’s you and I put a 
stop to it.” 


9 


130 


COUSIN GRACE. 


" Hush, Isa ; don’t speak so loud.” 

" I didn’t mean to. Peek out, Lucy, *md 
see if the door is shut.” 

Lucy pushed the shaAvl to one side and 
peeped out. Terror-stricken, she drew back 
again, glad to hide her head. The door was 
wide open, and the school so still you might 
have heard a pin drop ! Not a word had 
been lost. There stood Miss Allen by the 
desk, her finger up to hush the faintest 
noise. Having opened the door and found 
the girls talking, she decided to let the 
whole school know it. 

Isa was in an agony of unavailing remorse. 
Not only had she lost her teacher’s respect, 
but she had forever ruined her cause with 
Grace. She longed for the earth to open 
and hide her shame ; but as the earth refused 
to take her in, the best she could do was, to 
steal home, her proud head bent low and 


PRUDY PARL1N. 


131 


concealed under her sun-bonnet. It was a 
Litter punishment ; but Miss Allen, who had 
long understood her crooked conduct, was* 
bare she deserved it. 

She was discharged from the R. S. S. 
Angry and mortified, and not knowing of 
any better way to annoy the girls, she told 
their secrets to the wide world. Grace had 
never dreamed of this. 

"What are we to do with that little black 
cow?” said Robert to Grace. "She always 
wants to be somewhere else. She’s a regu- 
lar tornado at tearing down fences. What 
say to her joining a secret society? ” 

Grace was helping train a prairie-rose. 

"Don’t know what you mean, Robin.” 

" Just what I say. These strong-minded 
cows ought to form a Mutual-Improvement, 
Cows’ Rights Society. I’ve thought of a 
good name,” added Robert, with a twinkle 


:32 


COUSIN GRACE. 


in his eye : " Princesses of the Crooked 
Horn.” 

"Now, Robin, what do you mean? Tell, 
this minute,” cried Grace, dropping her ball 
of twine, and blushing. 

The boy whistled. 

"Tell me, Robin, have you heard some- 
thing?” 

"I’ve heard something, yes.” 

" What have you heard ? ” 

" Shan’t tell. Reckon you've heard of 
ihe Ruby Seal ! ” 

"That’ll do, Robin,” said Grace, suddenly 
looking down to watch an ant with thread- 
like limbs dragging oflf a cold shoulder of fly. 

" See here, Gracic : what cute hands girls 
are to keep secrets ! ” 

" Don’t want to hear another word, Robin.” 

"Cassy,” said Grace, a little later, "what’ll 
we do about the R. S. S. ? Isa's been and 
spread it all over town ! ” 


PRUDY PARLIN. 


133 


"You don’t believe it, do you? Why 
that makes me think what Johnny said to- 
day. He’s sorry I’m such a broken-hearted 
old maid at this time of life. Now I know 
what he meant.” 

"But what’ll we do about our R. S. S.? 
I’m so mortified ! ” 

" Let it die : who cares ? ’ 

"O, Cassy, I care. Don’t let’s give up at 
trifles.” 

"Then turn it into a Soldiers’ Aid.” 

Grace clapped her hands and waltzed 
across the street. 

" So we will, Cassy ; so we truly will ! 
That’s so very respectable ! ” 

"We’ll marry, too, if they’re going to 
make such a fuss,” suggested Cassy. 

"I won’t — unless I please. I’ll never be 
married to keep people from laughing, Cassy 
Hallock.” 


13 4 


COUSIN GRACE. 


Here Grace set her little foot firmly upon 
a toad, which she mistook for solid ground. 

"Cassy,” continued she, after a little 
scream, "let’s work for those darling old 
soldiers in the hospital. What have we 
been thinking about ? Don’t you let on ! 
After a little, you know, when school stops, 
Cassy ! O, can we wait that long? ” 

Meanwhile, we must attend to a new 
arrival. Uncle Edward Parlin dropped in 
suddenly, as good and smiling as ever, and 
with him little Prudy, blushing like a rose, 
but so dusty that she almost made you 
sneeze. But where was Susy? It seemed 
that Mrs. Parlin had not had time to prepare 
both the children for such a hasty journey. 

Horace shouted like a young Indian. 
Grace clapped her hands, and laughed in 
every note of the scale up to the second 
octave and back again. 


PRUDY PARLIN. 


135 


Prudy threw her arms about Mrs. Clif- 
ford's neck. 

" 0, aunt Ria,” she whispered, "bimeby 
1 shall cry.” 

"Aren’t you well, darling?” 

" Yes’m ; but I feel as if I wasn’t going to 
feel well.” 

It had been a hard journey for the poor 
little thing. She was soon nicely bathed and 
put in a comfortable bed, where, for about 
a minute, she lay wondering at the mosquito- 
bar, and then forgot all her trials in sleep. 

Next morning, Horace asked what she had 
dreamed. 

" O,” said Prudy, much refreshed, "I slept 
so fast I never heard my dreams. There, 
aunt Ria, you know Mrs. Mason, that gave 
Susy the bird ? She’s dead : 1 thought you’d 
be glad to hear that ! ” 

"I didn’t know the lady,” said Mrs. Clif- 


136 


COUSIN GRACE. 


ford, smiling; "yet I am not glad she ia 
dead.” 

Prudy was constantly espying wonders. 
Her fear of pigs was extreme, and the whole 
Ohio valley seemed to her one vast pig-pen 
without any fence. The creatures had such 
long noses, too ! From a safe distance, 
Prudy liked to watch them cracking nuts. 
She thought they could not have picked out 
the meats better if they had been gifted with 
fingers. 

She wandered with Grace and Cassy about 
the beautiful garden and green-house in a 
maze of delight. She might have been too 
happy if the mosquitos' had not laid plans to 
devour her. Grace bathed the poor child in 
camphor. " It hurts,” said Prudy, the quiet 
tears rolling down her cheeks ; " but Gracie 
bathes me for my good, and I won’t cry. 
O, aunt Ria, when I’m naughty, and you 


PRUDY PARLIN. 


137 


want to punish me, you can just put me to 
bed, and let the skeeters bite me.” 

Owing to the savage conduct of these 
bloodthirsty creatures, there was no trace 
left of Prudy’s beauty, except what Horace 
called her "killing little curls.” Grace was 
disappointed, for she had hoped to exhibit 
her charming cousin to great advantage. 

However, the mosquito-hills disappeared 
from her face in time, and then Prudy was 
quite " a lioness,” as Horace said. The prin- 
cesses admitted her to their social meetings. 
All they did now was, to state that they had 
read the required amount of Scripture, had 
told no wrong stories, and used no language 
which they regarded as unladylike. For 
the present, they met and played games, in- 
tending during holidays to begin work for 
the soldiers in earnest. 

When Prudy visited the school, she sat 


138 


COUSIN GRACE. 


with every one of the Princesses in turn, and 
liked them all blit the discarded member of 
the society, Isa Harrington. 

In private, she told Grace that Isa looked 
* like the woman that killed the man,” 
meaning Lady Macbeth, whose face she had 
often seen in a picture. 

"Don’t you like me, darling ?” said Isa, 
offering her a handful of peppermints. 

"O, yes, I like you,” said the child, ac- 
cepting the sugar-plums, " but I don’t like the 
spirit of you.” 

"What does that mean, you funny thing?” 

"I don’t know, but that’s the way they 
talk.” 

Prudy loved Mahla Linck at once. She 
said she had had just such a lameness her 
own self, and knew how it felt. " Ah, little 
dear,” said Mahla, laying her wasted cheek 
close to Prudy’s, "but you can walk now 
without a crutch, and I never can.” 


PRUDY PARLIN. 


13 U 

"O, Mahla, yes, you can never,- you can 
when you grow an angel.’"' 

The Princesses liked to escort Prudy 
through the streets, and hear her exclama- 
tions of surprise. She told them the " Yan- 
kees wouldn’t ’buze their horses so ; ” for it 
seemed to her rather unkind to braid their 
tails like heads of hair, and tie them up 
in knots ; though Grace assured her this was 
done to keep them from trailing in the dust. 
The mules were another curiosity. Prudy 
was also amazed at the " loads of oxen” driven 
by men who sat in the carts, and "drove ’em 
and whipped ’em same as if they was horses.” 
"Yankees,” she said, "walked with the oxen, 
and talked into their ears.” 

She informed the girls that the Hoosier 
sky was very odd-looking. "It’s Quaker 
color,” she said ; " but the sky to Portland is 
as blue as a robin’s egg, ’cept when it fogs.” 


140 


COUSIN GRACE. 


She described feathery snow-storms, "frost- 
)itten” windows, and the nice fishing in 
" Quoddy Bay;” told her listeners that 
eastern people "shave” their grass in sum- 
mer, and when it is dry it’s good to jump on. 

For the short time Prudy staid in Indiana 
her sunny face was a pleasure to everybody. 

"Why, aunt Ria,” said she, "do you think 
I’m good, though? Well, I’m evcr’n ever 
so much better away from borne.” 



Going to Barbara’s Wedding. 


Page 141 




BARBARA’S WEDDING. 


141 


CHAPTER IX. 

Barbara’s wedding. 

Barbara had now been at home for some 
time making preparations for her wedding, 
and had cordially invited ail the children to 
see her married, — Grace, Cassy, Prudy, and 
Horace ; everybody but little "Ruffle-neck,” 
as Horace sometimes called the baby. 

They set out in the morning in high 
spirits, Grace and Cassy walking under one 
umbrella, Horace and Prudy under another. 
Prudy was bareheaded, and her "killing 
little curls ” were blown into wild confusion 
by the breezes. 

The June air was very sweet, far it was 


142 


COUSIN GRACE. 


" snowing roses.” Prudy asked Horace if 
he didn’t think " the world smelt nice ?” Hor- 
ace put on a look of calm superiority, and 
replied that " the flowers were very much 
like essence bottles, to be sure, what we cal) 
odiferous , Prudy.” 

Some way behind the two children sailed 
the other umbrella, marked, in white paint, 
" Stolen from H. S. Clifford ; ” while under 
it Grace and Gassy talked confidentially. 

Prudy had heard that they were going to 
a place called the Bayou, and supposed it to 
be some sort of a house. But after a walk 
of two miles, they came to an immense field, 
where the corn shot up very tall and luxu- 
riant. 

" There’s the bayou over yonder,” said 
Horace, with a sweep of his thumb. 

"Where?” said Prudy, straining her eyes. 
* I don’t see a single thing but sugar-canes.’’ 


Barbara’s wedding. 


143 


" Corn, you mean ! Well, it’s a bayou, 
and the water runs up over it in the spring, 
and that makes bottom-land rich as mud.” 

Prudy stared at the cornfield, then at the 
river. 

"You don’t mean that that little thing 
went over it,” said she, waving her hat 
towards the Ohio. 

" Poh ! you needn’t think our river looks 
that way,” dropping the umbrella over his 
shoulder. " Tell you what it is : that river 
rises out of bed every spring, but it’s hung 
out to dry in the summer, Prudy.” 

The little girl stopped short and swung 
her hat off into space. Horace gallantly 
restored it. 

" O, what is that big thing there? a whale, 
or an ice-bug ? ” 

Horace laughed. "Whales in the river 1 
Goodness sakes, that’s a sand-bar, miss. A 


144 


COUSIN GRACE. 


man waded across here the other day. Tel. 
you what, if he could do it, I could — want 
to see me ? ” 

Prudy was alarmed, agreeably to expec- 
tation. 

"Well, now,” said the boy, holding the 
umbrella upright once more, "here we are 
at the Kinckles’. Come ahead, girls.” 

Prudy looked, and saw nothing but a 
crooked fence. Horace waited till Grace 
and Cassy came up, then let down the bars. 
Prudy trembled, and caught fast hold of 
Horace, for Farmer Kinckle’s calves were 
wandering about the field, eating grass, 
or playfully biting one another. Tall hick- 
ory, persimmon, peach, apple, and mulberry 
trees cast a deep shade. For some time 
nothing was to be seen of the house ; but at 
last it appeared in view — dark, unpainted, 
with chimneys built outside. 


Barbara’s wedding. 


145 


A cooking-stove stood in the yard, its 
long, black funnel puffing out smoke ; and, 
strange to tell, under the stove a nest of 
young ducklings enjoying the heat and the 
smell of the cooking. 

" Understand it to me, please,” said little 
Prudy. " Do the folks kuow their stove is 
out here ? ” 

Barbara appeared at the door with peony- 
colored cheeks and pleasant smiles. She 
would hardly have consented to be married 
unless the " childers ” might be there to see. 

There was no entry, and the front door 
was at the side of the house just opposite the 
back door. A huge fireplace spread itself 
over a large part of the room ; but it was 
never used except for smoking hams or mos- 
quitos. It was the only fireplace in the 
house. On the high mantel stood a candle- 
stick, a pipe, a beer bottle, a wooden clock, 
10 


146 


COUSIN GRACE. 


and a bowl of blackberries. On one side, 
exactly in the way, were two or three long 
drawers of black walnut, which ran nearly 
the length of the room, and on the top of 
the drawers were tubs, buckets, and clothes 
baskets. 

The house was propped on four feet. 
Horace discovered, under the house, a cat 
and kittens, a brood of chickens, and a dog. 
He called Prudy to admire this domestic 
menagerie, then crept under the house, and, 
by accident, overturned the cat’s saucer of 
milk ; whereat Pussy looked up at him with 
a glance of mild reproach. He next thrust 
both hands into a pool of corn-meal dough, 
which was meant for the chickens. 

" O, Horace,” said Grace, shocked at the 
dismal plight of her brother’s clothes, " I did 
think you’d try to keep clean for the wed- 
ding.” 


BARBARA’S WEDDING. 


141 

This was expecting too much. Grace felt 
that it was a trial to take Horace visiting. 
At the table he declined mutton gravy, say* 
ing he never ate " tallow,” and remarked 
about the cheese, that it was " as mouldy as 
castile soap ; ” yet Horace could not see that 
this was rude. 

Mrs. Kinckle wore a small black cap, 
which reminded Prudy of a wire cover 
which is used to keep off flies. Horace 
thought it looked about as big as a percus- 
sion cap. Prudy watched the good woman 
doing work just like anybody, though she 
was a German and a Jewess, and therefore 
could not have known the "truly name ” of a 
single dish she touched. 

There were a few articles to be ironed foi 
the bride, and Prudy had a mind to try the 
Jewish flatirons ; so, with Barbara’s leave, 
she smoothed out some handkerchiefs on 9 


148 


COUSIN GRACE. 


But soon the rabbi, or Jewish priest, ar 
rived, and it was time for the wedding. 
The company formed a circle, as if they 
were playing the "Needle’s Eye,” thought 
Prudy. In the middle of the ring stood 
Barbara and Solomon, the rabbi before them. 
The bride’s dress was a straw-colored silk, 
which must have cost many months’ wages ; 
but it was quite hidden under a long white 
veil, which enveloped Barbara from head to 
foot. The honest young bridegroom wore 
a solemn countenance ; but how the bride’s 
face looked, no one could tell. 

The rabbi began to chant something in 
Hebrew, probably the marriage service. 
After this, Grace supposed he would pray ; 
but he did not.” 

Mrs. Kinckle now kissed the bride — not 
through the veil, however — and then all the 
rest kissed her, this being the only part of 


Barbara’s wedding. 


149 


the oeremony which the children fairly under- 
stood. Prudy espied a small tear in Barba- 
ra’s eye, and wished Solomon only knew it, 
in which case he would never carry Barbara 
off in the world. 

After the bride had been duly embraced, 
cake was passed around, and a certain Jewish 
wine, very strong and fiery, which, of course, 
the children did not taste. A basket of 
cigars came next, and in a few moments tho 
gentlemen of the party were puffing at them . 
Thus the affair, after all, ended in smoke ; 
and before sunset the children were on their 
way home. 

It seemed to Grace that the world had 
begun to fall in pieces. To think that 
Barby would never more be seen in Mrs. 
Clifford’s kitchen, polishing and scrubbing ! 
To think that just a few little Hebrew words 
bad made such a dreadful change ; spiriting 


150 


COUSIN GRACE. 


away that splendid Barby forever. Cassy 
wondered how the Jews could endure their 
synagogues, and rabbis, and strong wines. 
Horace thought it a deal worse than keeping 
pigs. Grace would even sooner be married 
with candles and crucifixes, like a Roman 
Catholic. Cassy said she should have fifteen 
bridesmaids, "like they had in Kentucky.” 
Prudy gave it as her opinion that poor Barby 
was crying all the while the man " sing- 
songed.” " She hates Solomon,” added the 
child ; " for I asked her if she didn’t think 
so much whiskers was homely, and she said 
she did.” 

Before the children reached home the full 
moon was rising. 

" I didn’t use to know what the moon was,” 
quoth Prudy. " I thought it was a chip.” 

"What put that in your head, dear? ” said 
Grace. 


BARBARA'S WEDDING. 


15l 


”0,1 threw it up, you know, when I wasn’t 
three years old, there at grandma’s. I threw 
it up in the air, and didn’t see it go down ; 
and then, when I looked up, there was the 
moon ; and I said, ' O, grandma, see my 
chip ! 

” But you don’t know what ’tis now any 
better than did then, I’ll warrant,” said 
Horace, sitting down in the road to laugh. 

"Don’t know, Horace Clifford? I guess 
I do ! ” 

"Well, tell then, can’t you?” 

” Silver, of course ! Didn’t you never 
know that before ? ” 

"It’s a big world, darling,” said Grace, 
laughing. 

"I know that, Gracie Clifford; did I say 
it wasn’t? It’s a silver ball as big as a 
house, and there’s a man lives there, and 
I’ve seen him making up faces.” 


152 


COUSIN GRACE. 


Everybody laughed, and Prudy tried to 
be angry ; but her fiercest indignation fright- 
ened you about as much as a firefly trying to 
flash out a little chain-lightning. 

Mr. Parlin was daily expected back from 
St. Louis, and Grace and Horace clung to 
their little cousin, dreading the thought of 
losing her. 

" Aunt Ria,” said Prudy, " don’t you think 
’twould be a good plan for you to get the 
baby’s picture took, and send it to my 
mamma for a present ? ” 

Mrs. Clifford said she would try ; so, on 
Saturday afternoon, she went to Mr. Drake’s 
photograph-rooms with the little girls, while 
Horace wheeled the baby in her small car- 
riage. 

It was of no use. There were sure to be a 
dozen noses in Katie’s picture, or as many 
mouths. In vain Horace chirruped to her, 


BARBARA’S WEDDING. 


153 


calling her (love-names. "Still, now, Brown- 
brimmer ! Ho, little Topknot ! ” The more 
he tried to hush her, the more eager she 
grew for a frolic. 

"My fine little fellow,” said the artist, 
"suppose you and the young misses go in 
the next room for a while ? ” 

They all went. Prudy threw off her hat, 
and sat down to hold the white kitty which 
she had carried in her arms all the way. 

" Sit still, little youngling,” cried Horace ; 
" I’ll take you ! ” 

So the boy arranged an apparatus by turn- 
ing down one chair, setting another across 
it, and throwing over both a table-cover for 
a screen. Prudy looked solemnly at her 
finger-nails. 

"That’s jolly, Miss Parlin. Just keep 
that little nose straight, so it won’t be 
foreshortened or fore lengthened. Now, 


254 


COUSIN GRACE. 


young huly,” continued the little artist, pok- 
ing his roguish face between the bars of the 
chair, " afraid your dress Avon’t take ! too 
near — ahem — snuff color.” 

"Don’t say snuff-color, Horace, or I’ll 
sneeze, and that’ll spoil my nose.” 

"O, Avhat foolishness ! ” laughed Grace and 
Cassy. 

"Hush! There, I’ve fixed the focus. 
Now, observe this fly on my jacket (coat, 
I mean), young lady, and don’t you wink.” 

Horace consulted a small bottle he held in 
his hand for a watch. 

"These pictures Avere all failures,” he said. 
" Some had ' no focus,’ Avhile others Avere 
' all focus ; ’ they * flattered,’ and Avere like- 
wise too f negative .’ ” 

Meanwhile, the artist, Mr. Drake, much 
amused, brought in his photographic appara- 
tus, and made a picture of the little group. 


BARBARA’S WEDDING. 


155 


This picture Mrs. Clifford purchased for 
Mrs. Purlin, instead of the many-nosed min- 
iature of the baby. 

The day before starting for the east, 
Prudy went with Mrs. Clifford, her cousins, 
and Cassy, to visit the hospital, which was 
filled with sick and wounded soldiers. They 
wanted to give something to every man they 
saw, and mourned when their "goody-basket 
was emptied of its contents. 

"O, ma,” said Grace, with ready tears, 
"it just makes me feel like we must get up 
that fair, and raise money ! ” 

" I only wish I could be here to help,” 
said little Prudy. 

"Come here, my dear,” said a pale gentle- 
man who heard the child’s voice. " I cannot 
see you, for 1 am blind. Will you tell me 
who you all arc?” 

* Yes, sir ; this is me, that’s got your hand- 


156 


COUSIN GRACE. 


My name is Prudy Parlin, and that boy that 
isn’t in this room is Horace.” 

" Horace ! Whose son ? ” 

" He’s my uncle Henry Clifford’s son ; but 
uncle Henry isn’t his uncle : he’s his father, 
Horace is his only son, and me, and Susy, 
and Dotty is my father’s only daughters ! ” 
"Possible! Now, my sweet little one, 
will you ask Horace to come here? ” 

It was Mr. Lazelle, Avith whom the Clif- 
fords had travelled east the year before. 
They had a pleasant meeting. Horace had 
once been angry with this very gentleman 
for boxing his ears ; but he forgot it all when, 
he looked at the blind, helpless soldier, and 
Avanted to open his savings’ bank at once in 
his behalf. 

Next day Prudy Avent home. Grace and 
all the Princesses wept bitterly at parting 
with the dear child ; still, it was better for 


BA ILDAR AS WEDDING. 


1*7 


them that she should go away. She claimed 
too much of their attention at the very 
time when they should have thought only 
of study. 


138 


COUSIN GRACE. 


CHAPTER X. 

WHO GETS THE PRIZE? 

Mahla Linck seemed to grow paler and 
thinner. Her mother, when kindly advised 
to keep her at home, replied, " My Mahla 
loves her book ; she must in the school go.” 
The poor woman could not and would not 
see the danger. But though Mahla looked 
ill, she no longer seemed discouraged. Since 
Grace had undertaken to help her, she was 
gaining confidence. 

"Mother, I feel just this way,” Mahla 
would say sometimes : " if I can’t get the 
prize, I hope Grace Clifford will, for she’s 
the best girl in school.” 


WHO GETS THE PRIZE ? 


15S 


Mrs. Li nek was glad that Mahla felt sc 
kindly towards her rival, but sighed as she 
looked at her daughter’s pale face, and 
thought of the weary hours she had spent in 
study, while other girls were at play. 

Examination-day came. It was sultry 
even for July. But the girls at the Gram- 
mar School, who had drooped like wilted 
flowers, now bloomed bright and fresh once 
more. Those who had new dresses wore 
them on this occasion, and all came to school 
with hair smoothly brushed the very last 
thing. 

Ah, who does not know the flutter at the 
heart when the " three committee-men,” or 
" trustees,” knock, and are solemnly asked 
in and seated? Some of us have felt this 
flutter for the last time ; but you children 
will understand just how the girls felt that 
day, with parents, older sisters, and neigh- 
bors to look on and criticise. 


16 0 


COUSIN GRACE. 


Tall Miss Allen looked serene, but there 
was a tremulous motion of her moutn and 
fingers. On her desk was a vase of beau- 
tiful flowers, which Grace had brought, care- 
fully shielded under her sun-umbrella. 

Mrs. Clifford and Mrs. Hallock, with a 
few other ladies, occupied the raised plat- 
form behind the desk. Mrs. Linck sat near 
the window, cooling her heated face by the 
use of a large feather fan. 

Mahla was in her old seat ; there was a 
beautiful pink color in her cheeks, which 
one could see was the flush of excitement, 
not the glow of health. 

And over by the west window sat the 
bosom friends, Grace and Cassy, their ten- 
der friendship undisturbed by a single feel- 
ing of rivalry ; for, owing to Cassy’s long 
absence from school, she had not the faintest 
hope of the prize. Grace’s sunny ringlets 


WHO GETS THE PRIZE? 1G1 

and sparkling eyes danced with eagerness. 
She looked as tidy as ever, in a thin blue 
dress, with rivulets of blue ribbon flowing 
down the skirt. Cassy’s pensive face was 
lighted up with more than usual animation. 

It was a pleasure to see these two young 
friends together. Mrs. Clifford looked at 
them with a smile which was half a tear, as 
she remembered just such a friendship in 
her own childhood. Many other ladies 
watched Grace and Cassy with interest, and 
were carried back to the " days that are no 
more ” — days whose dewy freshness can no 
more be recalled than the sweet apple-blos- 
soms which fell so softly into the grass last 
year. 

But the question of the day was, " Who 
would get the prize?” Perhaps Captain 
Clifford, who sat with several other gentle- 
men near the door, felt more interest in the 


11 


1G2 


COUSIN GRACE. 


result than he confessed to himself. Horace 
stood near his father, as grave as a little 
judge. He ran over the whole school with 
his eye, and mentally decided that Grace 
was the prettiest girl in the room next to 
Gassy ; for Cassy . was his beau ideal of 
beauty and goodness. 

The reading was over, and the copy-books 
were offered for inspection. Then the trus- 
tees began to ask questions. Grace’s face 
lighted up ; the hectic in Mahla’s cheeks 
burned brighter still. Mrs. Clifford was 
sorry to see this feverish eagerness. She 
had never liked prizes, and now approved 
of them less than ever. In geography, Isa 
Harrington held out bravely, but at last 
yielded to Grace and Mahla, who kept to- 
gether, neither gaining upon the other. 

The audience grew interested : the trus- 
tees looked at one another and smiled. 


WHO GETS THE PRIZE ? 


ica 

Then came spelling. So many odcl words 
were found — words which most of the girls 
had forgotten were in McGufFey’s Spelling- 
Book. 

But though the others hesitated, neither 
Grace nor Mahla were caught trip Ding. 
One by one, all dropped off from the ranks 
but these two, who resolutely held their 
ground, though hard words rattled about 
their ears like bullets. At last came the test- 
word — one of the easiest, too — "pillory."’ 
Grace spelled it with an " a ” instead of an 
" o.” She knew her mistake in a second, 
and Mr. Reynolds paused, hoping she would 
correct herself. But though others had done 
this repeatedly, Grace was at once too proud 
and too generous. The flash in Mahla’s eyes, 
as she spelled the word after her, was not 
one of triumph. She was really sorry Grace 
had not done better for herself. 


164 


COUSIN GRACE. 


Next came arithmetic. This had always 
been Mahla’s weak point, and Mr. Reynolds 
at first asked questions slowly, meaning to 
give her time to think. But it was soon 
evident that Mahla knew very well what she 
was doing, and could not be easily puzzled. 
True, Grace had gone over more ground ; 
hut this the trustees would not have known 
if Miss Allen had not informed them in an 
aside-whisper. 

"Ah, yes, yes,” nodded Mr. Reynolds, 
peeping over his spectacles at Grace, with 
a glance which meant, "Well done! well 
done ! ” 

In grammar, again, Grace and Mahla were 
weil matched. If there was any difference, 
Mahla excelled in giving rules, for her verbal 
memory was excellent. 

The trustees were surprised to find the 
two rivals so well informed, while at the 


WHO GETS THE PRIZE ? 


165 


Bame time they were puzzled as to any pret* 
erence. They whispered together. Mr. 
Reynolds rubbed his spectacles as if they 
would help him see his way clear; Dr. 
Snow scratched his learned head, and Mr. 
Newell leaned backward in his chair to 
meditate. 

The audience felt somewhat as people feel 
in a court-room when the jury are out decid- 
ing an interesting case. From time to time 
Mrs. Linek looked anxiously at her daughter, 
as if she feared the excitement would be too 
much for her. 

All the while the prize was lying on the 
desk, wrapped in brown paper. What it 
was no one knew ; but the girls fancied it 
was " large enough to be almost anything.” 

They were growing uneasy, and the teach- 
er herself tapped the floor gently with her 
foot, as if she thought it high time a decision 
was made. 


166 


COUSIN GRACE. 


At last, when Mr. Reynolds had finished 
polishing his spectacles, he took from the 
brown wrapper a beautiful rosewood writing- 
desk, and held it up to view, opening it ttf 
show the elegant workmanship. 

"Young ladies, I would like your atten- 
tion a few moments ! Upon examination, 
we find two of you so nearly equal that it is 
no easy matter to decide which deserves the 
prize. Miss Grace Clifford does well — 
exceedingly well. Her reading we consider 
superior to Miss Mahla Linck’s, and their 
copy-books are equally neat. The truth is, 
we wish we had two prizes to give, instead 
of one. But as that cannot be, we have at 
last concluded to award this writing-desk 
to — Miss Mahla. Now we wish you all 
distinctly to understand why we do this,” 
continued he, placing the points of his fore- 
fingers together. "It is because we think 


WHO GETS THE PRIZE ? 


167 


the effort she has made in arithmetic this 
term deserves a reward. She has always 
been a good student, but within the past 
few weeks her progress in arithmetic has 
been remarkable ! ” 

There was a general hum of satisfaction. 
Poor Mrs. Linck was fairly trembling for 
joy, and Mahla looked as if a star had 
dropped from the sky at her feet. 

As for Grace, her heart was so full that 
she could hardly force back the tears. They 
should not fall. Nobody would understand 
that she was crying for joy ! 

When Mahla whispered to Grace that 
night, " O, Grade, I wouldn’t have had it 
but for you, dear ! ” it would be hard to tell 
which was the happier girl, grateful Mahla 
Linck, or noble Grace Clifford. 

Nobody but the Lincks, the Cliffords, and 
Cassy ever knew the whole story. If peo* 


168 


COUSIN GRACE. 


pie had heard it, they would have foolishly 
praised Grace for her beautiful simplicity 
of conduct. Then Grace might possibly 
have grown proud and self-conscious, and 
that would have spoiled all. 

Mrs. Clifford begged leave to furnish the 
desk with the choicest writing materials. 
It gave her pleasure to do this, for nothing 
in her daughter’s best deeds had ever touched 
her like her disinterested kindness to Mahla. 

Grace was overjoyed to find that her 
father did not seem disappointed or dis- 
pleased with her. He was apparently as 
glad as any one . of Mahla’s good fortune. 
He kissed his daughter that night more ten- 
derly than usual, and there was something 
in his approving smile which Grace valued, 
after all, more than a hundred prizes. 


TIIE CHILDREN’S FAIR. 


169 


CHAPTER XI. 

THE CHILDREN’S FAIR. 

It was now vacation. Mahla was too ill to 
go out ; and, as for the other girls, they 
said they had the " sleeps ; ” and, instead of 
working for the soldiers, they preferred to 
lie under the trees and dream away the 
summer days. 

Not so Grace Clifford. She saw so much 
of the sick men, and heard so much of them 
from Lieutenant Lazelle, that she was re- 
solved to give the R. S. S. a good shaking, 
and wake it up. Quiet was Grace’s abomi- 
nation. She made a speech before the 
society — an off-hand effort, which 1 will 


170 


COUSIN GRACE. 


record, first remarking that Grace could 
have done vastly better if she had stopped 
two minutes to think. 

The Queen's Address. 

Dear Princesses : In our early youth, 
while in the morning of life, and with the 
dew yet sparkling upon us like down on the 
cheek of a beautiful peach, I think ( we 
think, I mean) it’s our glorious duty, as 
little girls of the eighteenth century (nine- 
teenth, I mean), to put our shoulder to the 
plough of our dear country ! O, my Prin- 
cesses, will we let the rebels, with glaring 
eyeballs, set their iron hoofs upon our 
necks, and choke, and grind, and crush, and 
trample us into — powder? Will we fold 
our idle arms, and shut our idle ears, and 
listen to the cry of their war-whoop, which 


THE CHILDREN’S FAIR. 


171 


goes rolling over and over the hills and down 
into the valleys of our glorious Union? Will 
we see the furious and howling enemy seize, 
plunder, and wring off the neck of our 
American Eagle, — that golden, glorious 
bird ; and, while he screams with hoarse, 
cavernous echoes, pluck the noble eyes out 
of his head — his bald head, O Princesses ! 

(The queen looked round her for sympa- 
thy, and not in vain : she was carrying her 
audience away with her.) 

Think of our great, great, very great 
grandpas, how they fought and bled in free- 
dom’s cause. Hail, ye heroes! — No, I 
mean to say, Friends, countrymen, girls , 
let’s put on our — helmets, and fight for dear 
life ! Are we too weak to fire cannonades ? 
Will we be forbidden to pour out our hearts’ 
blood? And are our limbs too tender to be 
broken in a thousand pieces? Then we'll 


172 


COUSIN GRACE. 


fight with our needles! We’ll make out 
glorious, splendid, poor, miserable, dying 
soldier-boys comfortable ! If that’s all we 
can do, we’ll do that! — Now, girls, I’ll tell 
you what it is, continued the queen, sud- 
denly dropping from her airy flight, let’s 
work like spiders, won’t we ? and buy jellies, 
and broths, and things ! I’ll not have a new 
dress forever if I can help it. Who’s in for 
a Fair? All that are agreed say, Ay! 

It " was a vote.” The girls concluded to 
shake off the " sleeps,” and go to work. 
Mahla, who was duly informed of all that 
went on, was delighted with the project, and 
promised to make lace bags and a few little 
things at home. 

At Mahla’s urgent request, poor Isa was 
taken back as a member of the society. She 
had been wretched enough to satisfy all ideas 


THE CHILDREN’S FAIR. 


1T3 


of justice, and could do no harm now by dis- 
closing secrets. Isa was tolerably subdued 
and grateful, but a trifle sullen, withal. Her 
maimer said, plainly, — 

"O, girls, I’ll do anything to make you 
trust me and like me once more. That’s 
the way I feel ; but I don’t want you to know 
it; so I’m trying to look as if I didn’t 
care.” 

The Princesses were rather youthful, but 
they had this advantage — they were old 
enough to know their own ignorance. They 
chose their mothers for advisers — the wisest 
thing they could have done. 

Twice a week they held meetings in f. 
large chamber at Mrs. Clifford’s. Here they 
kept their pieces of work, each girl having a 
separate basket. Articles accumulated : un- 
finished pincushions, baby’s socks, book- 
marks, doll’s bodies, kettle-holders, and 


1 74 


COUSIN GRACE. 


garments of "domestic muslin,” known in 
New England as "factory cloth.” 

Mrs. Clifford, who was not only a patriotic 
lady, hut an accomplished needlewoman, had 
a general oversight of matters, and spent an 
hour or two each afternoon with the children, 
making suggestions and adding finishing 
touches. 

Before long, a dozen girls from the High 
School joined the R. S. S. Fancy articles 
grew apace. It was even hoped now that 
the Fair could he. held before the opening of 
the schools in September. 

Grace was fathoms deep in business. She 
wanted Horace to work too, and thought he 
and Phebc should be ready at all hours to 
run of errands, drive nails, or hold skeins of 
silk. Horace ought never to complain when 
called away from play ; for what did she asK 
of him but to help the poor, bleeding sob 


THE CHILDREN’S FAIR. 


175 


diers? All he did for the R. S. S. was so 
much done for his country. Horace had 
his own opinion upon this subject, forgot 
his errands, and when sent shopping, stu- 
pidly asked if sewing-silk was " cloth,” and 
if tape came in " skeins”? He was willing 
to work when he could manage for himself, 
but didn’t like to be " anybody’s waiter.” 

Grace’s patience sometimes failed ; but 
Cassy could effect wonders with her smiling 
— "Now, please, Horace.” When Cassy 
wanted anything, the wilful boy put on what 
his sister called " his heroics,” and went to 
work with a will. 

To be sure, the "cup and saucer” were 
buried in cares ; yet somehow they could 
steal time for long chats "down by the acorn- 
tree,” their heads under an umbrella or a 
shawl. While thus pleasantly engaged, it 
was natural that Grace should think she had 


176 


COUSIN GRACE. 


no time to assist her brother in pasting his 
scrap-books or making his kites. 

"See, now,” said Horace, when, after a 
search, he had found Grace and Cassy under 
the acorn-tree, "you make mighty small of 
some folks ! Can’t lift a finger to help me; 
but wnen you want some work done, it’s 
'Horace, dear,’ and ' O, you darling ! * 
Reckon I know a thing or two ! ” 

The girls’ friendship flowed on smoothly. 
It was hardly in the power of the most de- 
signing person to make any more mischief 
between them. Grace’s highest hopes for 
her baby-sister were, that she might grow 
up as " smart and good as Cassy.” 

All this while, though Mahla Linck never 
lost interest in the society, she was growing 
weaker every day. Her little nerveless hands 
dropped the work they had attempted. She 
had no more use for her crutch, which lay 


THE CHILDREN’S FAIR. 


17 ? 


on the table beside her bed, taking a long 
rest. 

Grace and Cassy made daily visits to their 
sick friend. Mahla assured them that her 
writing-desk was one of her greatest com- 
forts : it was almost as good as a sister. 
When she was too feeble to sit up, it was 
placed on the bed near her elbow, and she 
would lie and look over its contents, count- 
ing the sheets of perfumed note-paper, and 
feeling their gloss with her fingers. 

When strong enough to write, she liked 
to copy poems in a neat round hand with 
her gold pen. 

" See how she that desk does love ! ” said 
Mrs. Linck, breaking her English into small 
pieces, as she always did when very earnest. 
r O, Miss Grace, your kindness forget never 
I shall.” 

Grace felt inclined to kiss Mahla and to 


178 


COUSIN GRACE. 


cry. "O, Mahla,” said she, "if you’re onty 
well, won’t we girls have good times in the 
upper room when school takes up ? ” 

Mahla smiled sadly. "I’m going some- 
place else.” 

"Some-place else? O, Mahla, you’re too 
sick ! ” 

" Not too sick to go to heaven, Grade ! ” 

Grace shuddered, and hid her face in Mah- 
la’s bosom. 

"It don’t frighten me a bit, Grade.” 

" But, Mahla, darling, it’s so far off ! ” 

"O, Grade, no, indeed; it seems as if 
heaven was right in this room.” 

" So dark and cold down there,” sobbed 
Grace. 

"But I’ll not be there!” Mahla whispered. 
" Not in the grave a minute ! I don’t know 
what way I’ll go up to heaven, but the 
Lord will know. O, he loves me so ! ” 


THE CHILDREN’S FAIR. 


179 


After this conversation, Grace and Gassy 
walked home together very quietly. Grace 
looked at the fair, green earth and soft sky, 
and remembered some of the poetry Mahla 
had copied : — 


“The world is lovely. O, my God, 

I thank Thee that I live.” 

As Grace repeated these lines to herself, she 
drew closer to her friend. 

w O, Cassy, it’s so lonesome to be in the 
grave 1 ” 

Yet Mahla, whom she pitied, was happier 
on her sick bed than even these joyous girls. 
Her clinging trust in God was more delight- 
ful than opal skies, and ruddy health, and 
even the dearest friendships. 

The Children’s Fair was held in the Musk 
Hall, and was fully attended. Robin said 
there was no room for more people, urless 
vou drove ud some nails. 


180 


COUSIN GRACE. 


The benevolent enterprise had been under* 
taken by a handful of young girls, who had 
worked with great zeal in the very warmest 
days of summer ; and since this fact was 
well known, it was enough in itself to bring 
a crowd of people out of mere curiosity. 

The little heroines of the evening, dressed 
in white, with wreaths on their heads, looked 
as fresh as lilies, but kept modestly in the 
background, leaving the management of 
affairs to older people. 

It was very much like other fairs — ice 
cream, cake, chicken salad, sandwiches, 
saucers of peaches and cream ; then sing- 
ing, some of which ’'jingled,” Horace said, 
and he liked it. 

Grace neld lip her hands in horror. 

"You queer boy, a 'jingle,’ as you call it, 
is a discord, and it sets my ears on edge ! 
It’s worse than the creaking of a horrid 
grindstone i ” 


THE CHILDREN’S FAIR. 


181 


Then there were patriotic remarks, no 
speaker omitting to praise the "fair and 
noble young misses ” who had been the 
means of raising hundreds of dollars for the 
soldiers. If these enthusiastic gentlemen 
had used less flattery, it might have been 
wiser ; for I fear that some of the Princesses 
went home that night fancying their own 
little heads and hearts to be running over 
with wisdom and benevolence. 

The very next day Mahla Linck passed 
quietly away to the Saviour who " loved 
her so.” 

It did not seem like death. Grace and 
Cassy looked at the face which Mahla had 
once lighted up. It was quite still, now, 
and changeless ; but the sweet, trusting 
look was there yet — the very look she 
gave her Saviour when she saw him coming 
to take her in his arms and bless her, and 
bear her away to heaven. 


182 


COUSIN GRACE. 


Grace kissed the cold forehead, but it no 
longer thrilled to her touch. The purified 
spirit of little Mahla was not there. 

"O, Gassy, do you remember what she 
said ? ” whispered Grace through a mist of 
tears. " She said heaven was right in this 
room ; and seems to me I can feel it ! ” 

The quiet of the spot was indeed hallowed. 
One might almost believe that the peace 
which had filled little Mahla’s heart still 
lingered about her sleeping form. 

" She loved God dearly,” thought Grace. 
" O, I wish I loved Him so ! ” 

Mrs. Linck took Grace’s hand and laid it 
upon the beautiful writing-desk which stood 
on a table by the bed. '’Keep it,” said she ; 
"my Mahla said it must to you belong. She 
will not, in heaven, need it any more.” 

Grace sobbed out her thanks, and said she 
would " always love that desk, and never, 
never part with it.” 


THE CHILDREN’S FAIR, 


183 


She preserves it now among her choicest 
treasures. It reminds her of the blessed 
Golden Rule ; and she thinks — though I 
hope never with pride — of the happiness 
she was once able to give a tired and sick 
little friend. 

It is yet fresh and new ; but the years 
pass so swiftly, that only a little while, and 
that very desk will be a relic of the past, 
which another generation of young people 
will regard as a sacred memento of Grace 
Clifford’s happy girlhood. 




























































SOPHIE MAY’S “LITTLE-FOLKS” BOOKS 


LITTLE PRUDY 

*' I have been wanting to say a wovrl about a boob for chil- 
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Somebody must be genuine ; if an invention, it shows a genius 
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the little ones to remind their parents that there is such a book 
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LITTLE PRUDY’S SISTER SUSIE 

“ Every little girl and boy who has made the acquaintance 
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the joys and troubles of poor Susie make a very interesting 
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“ Certainly one of the most cunning, natural, and witty little 
books we ever read.” — Hartford Press. 


LITTLE PRUDY'S CAPTAIN HORACE 

“ These are such as none but Sophie May can write, and we 
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Our readers will find a good deal in them about Prudy, for so 
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SOPHIE MAY'S “LITTLE-FOLKS” BOOKS 


LITTLE PRUDY’S STORY BOOK 

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LITTLE PRUDY’S COUSIN GRACE 

“ An exquisite picture of little-girl life at school and at home, 
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Press. 


LITTLE PRUDY’S DOTTY DIMPLE 

“Dotty Dimple is the plague of Prudy’s life, and yet she 
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SOPHIE MAY’S “LITTLE-FOLKS” BOOKS 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT HER GRANDMOTHER'S 

“ Sophie May’s excellent pen has perhaps never written 
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4 Dotty Dimple.’ If the little reader follows Dotty through 
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of Gospel Liberty. 


DOTTY DIMPLE OUT WEST 

44 Dotty’s trip was jolly. In the cars, where she saw so many 
people thai, she thought there’d he nobody left in any of the 
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DOTTY DIMPLE AT HOME 

44 This little book is as full of spice as any of its predecessors, 
and well sustains the author’s reputation as the very cleverest 
of all writers of this species of children’s books. Were there 
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SOPHIE MAY’S “ LITTLE-FOLKS ” BOOKS 


DOTTY DIMPLE AT SCHOOL 

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DOTTY DIMPLE AT PLAY 

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DOTTY DIMPLE’S FLYAWAY 

“ This is the final volume of the ‘ Dotty Dimple Series.’ 
It relates how little Flyaway provisioned herself with cookies 
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lots of quaint speeches and funny incidents.” — North Ameri- 
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“ A Little Red Riding-Hoodish story, sprightly and takingly 
told.” — American Farmer. 
































































